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rabid1stDISHEVELED
by Rabid1st
Doctor Who
Ten/Rose
Ratings: Adult +
Beta Babes: Keswindhover, larielromeniel, and thewinterqueen also, Measi and queenrikki_hp. With a special shout-out to Lil and Jei for their YIM help.
Summary: It's the end of the world as we know it. Spoilers to Doomsday
Disclaimer: I work my little fingers to the bone and I'm still not entitled to any royalties. Nobody invites me to the sound stages in Cardiff. I had to sneak into the company picnic, avoiding security and such while I ate fried chicken and potato salad, but that's okay because all rights to Doctor Who and it's characters belong to the BBC, Russell T. Davies and assorted production companies.
CLICK HERE FOR ALL PREVIOUS PARTS
PART TWENTY-THREE
The world flickered before him, like a celluloid film shown a hundred times too often. He'd seen this reel before, the final battle sequence. It tended to stick and burn on the projector light. Static buzzed in his head. But through the white noise, he could hear the indistinct drone of overlapping voices. His own words came to him quite clearly, the memory of them tightly tuned to a frequency.
“And when you go back to the stars and tell others of this planet, when you tell them of its riches, its people, its potential...when you talk of the Earth, then make sure that you tell them this: It is defended!”
Another voice, the most beloved one, also came back to him in sharp detail, “Doctor, they've got guns.” But the speakers in his memory kept overlapping the here and now.
They've got guns, Doctor. Pulse particle guns trained on the Capital.
“And I don't. Which makes me the better person, don't you think? They can shoot me dead, but the moral high ground is mine.”
The white room started to fade around him, as the sound of weapons fire and the screams of the dying began overwhelming his reason. He grew numb and even his own voice became hazy in memory. I won't be a party to this. I will not...cannot pull that trigger. Do you have any idea what such a weapon would do?
--We don't have the luxury of taking the moral high ground, Doctor. It's time for you to get your hands dirty.
--Is that where we are, Brellia? Is this the high ground? Look at my hands, old friend. Look at them! My hands may never be clean again.
“She was in the room with that sphere,” Jackie Tyler said, trying to be hopeful. “What's happened to Rose?”
She was on board that ship. Her family. My family. Every last surviving member. Tell me they made it through the blockade. Damn it man, tell me what's happened to Susan?
“I'll find her. I brought you here,” he grated out the promises through clenched teeth, “I'll get you both out, you and your daughter. Jackie, look at me.”
We'll stop them at Arcadia. You have my word. I promise you, the plan will work. The line will hold.
“Rose said about the Daleks, she was terrified of them. What have they done to her, Doctor? Is she dead?”
Through the crackle of static the Master's voice came to him...so many mixed feelings about that. Dead! (static) They're all...(static) Fuck...Doctor, pick up the damned Com. We can't hold them off much longer. We've lost Brellia and Kquieroon...the defense grid is failing.
--Here...(deafening blasts) I'm...we've got...outside the wall (He could barely hear himself speaking...only every third or fourth word...as if the radio static was all in his head. He was bleeding. There was quite a lot of blood and a dizzy sickness...he couldn’t shake it and retched between reports.) ...Ace?
Miraculously the connection cleared as the guns fell silent. --Ace? Gone! Your precious pet is gone. The right flank is bloody well gone. The Cruciform is all that's still standing. They've herded us in here to die. Trapped us like stupid cattle.
Another voice cut in through the static --Heavy fire...(static) The Eye? The (static) Inside the Cruciform...defenses?
The Master spoke again, loud and clear. --Pulverized, Doctor, asteroids and dust. There's nothing left. You have to hold them at Arcadia.(a furious storm of static and then nothing…for too long…nothing)...everything I ever said about you. I'll repent every sin, I swear. Just promise me. Promise me, you will hold them at Arcadia.
“What's upgrading mean?” Jackie sounded as plaintive as a child begging for forgiveness, promising to be good. “Stop, them. I don't want to go, Doctor. No, NO! Doctor...? You promised me. You gave me your word.”
The bleat of the vanquished, bargaining for their lives, their infantile squeaking making no impression on deaf reality, he'd heard that pleading note in his own voice. He remembered it all too well.
Get out. All of you. Romana? Romana, can you hear me? Inquisitor? Zagrocilia? Master? Anyone? Please...please, pick up! You can't be gone. It can't all be gone. Romana? If you can hear me, get out. Get out, now! Arcadia has fallen. Repeat, Arcadia has fallen. They're coming through.
Two lifetimes and a hundred years later, he could still hear the static bursts as the TARDIS tried to patch him through to a capital city already in flames. He could still smell the blood, brains and spent bowels of the fallen. He could still taste the bitter surge of icy bile rising into his throat as TARDIS after TARDIS vanished from the battle grids before him. The rising fear of his own ship filled his mind as they rose over Arcadia. Her keening wail of despair galvanized him into action as more and more of his people died and were downloaded to the Matrix.
The thought of the Matrix focused his resolve. All of that knowledge, all of that power - in the hands of the Daleks? It was unthinkable. They would use the Matrix and the Eye of Harmony to breach the dimensional walls: universe after universe would fall, until there was no life left...anywhere. He couldn't let that happen. Aware of his injuries only in so far as they slowed him, he set to work. He moved like a man neck deep in treacle.
His numb fingers fumbled over buttons and dials. The control room floor dipped and bucked under him as he started the final countdown. He clung to the console and threw the switch to backup the Matrix, the source of all Time Lord Wisdom, copying it to the TARDIS processing core. Her systems red-lined and began overheating. Panels blew off the walls. Fluid leaked from every gasket.
The main lights went out and the emergency ones dimmed. The floor pitched to the right, sending him crashing into what remained of the guard railing. There was more blood now. A slab of spinning debris had slammed into his forehead, gashing open his brow. His knees buckled and his hand, giving up its grip on anchoring stability, went to his temple. The wildly rotating ship tossed him about like an ice cube dropped into a cup. He felt his collarbone break. There would be no respite from the dizzying nausea this time. As he crashed into the time rotor, he held on and clawed his way to the Helmut regulator. His bloodied fingers punched in a gravity sequence.
To his complete amazement, the TARDIS settled into a relatively upright flight pattern. Praising her profusely, he tried to coax a bit more speed from her. The monitor showed the oncoming Dalek ships. The TARDIS coughed and sputtered, her engines smoking. He urged her to try harder, mentally holding her hand. A new peal of warning bells sounded. The circle of weapons fire was closing in on them. There was nothing he could do to save himself, or anyone else.
There was no one left to save. Nothing left but his duty to carry out the last order President Romana had given him—“If we fail.... If we fall...destroy the Eye of Harmony, release the holy power of the Vortex and burn Gallifrey out of the sky, not just here and now but throughout time. You must do this Doctor. If Gallifrey falls.” Every one of his people would die his entire civilization. But it had to be done. Not one Dalek could survive. The cleansing fire was the only way to be sure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a gulf. A gaping hole. A bottomless abyss, opening into the void between realities. A burning rift in time and space. It was mirrored in his mind and soul. He woke up to it each morning, had stared into it endlessly. It didn’t matter if the nothingness reflected blue eyes or brown. The soulless reflection claimed everything. His planet. His past. His people. Everyone he’d ever loved or hated or never heard of or hoped to meet one day. Every photograph fell away, every scrap of paper, every dirty dish. Until there was only the wind remaining, only the sound of things departed. Love and hate and hope rushed toward the rift, slipping by him, tumbling past him into nothingness. He screamed his denial. Screamed until his head ached and his throat bled but there was no one left to hear him. No one left.
“The sphere came through here,” Yvonne said, showing him the wall that had haunted him for over a year. “A hole in the world”
“I just...woke up from this terrible dream,” Jackie mused. “There was this hole...a great gaping hole in the world...and she was falling toward it.”
“So you find the breech,” he said, hoping Yvonne caught the pitch to his voice and appreciated his disappointment in her. “Probe it. The Sphere comes through. Bam! It leaves a hole in the fabric of reality. And that hole? Do you think, should we leave it alone, should we back off, should we play it safe. Nah! You think...let's make it bigger!”
“You are proof,” the Cyberleader grated.
It took a Herculean effort but the Doctor turned from his view of the beleaguered city far below, and brought his attention to bear on the metallic horror beside him.
“Of what?” he asked, not really caring what it meant.
“That emotions destroy you,” it replied.
He wouldn't have thought it could hurt him, but this simple statement pierced his chest like the point of a javelin. He was so lost even this emotionless thing could see it. Tears blurred his vision for a moment, as he thought of all the friends he'd watched fall. He thought of Rose in the sphere room with the Daleks. Terrified, her mother had said. Even if she survived, somehow, even if he managed to save her, he'd lost her mother. How could he ever face her again knowing he'd let her mother die? Rose’s world would fall to the Daleks. And her mother would become a Cyberman just as she’d done in the alternative world. Jackie Tyler had been his responsibility and once again she'd been taken from Rose and converted.
To his surprise he found himself agreeing with the Cyberleader’s assessment of his weakness. “Yeah, I am.”
As he confessed, a twitch in the fabric of reality drew his eye. He'd been looking around corners all day, staring into the oncoming storm, hoping to find a way out, a way to keep this world and his Rose safe. At first he didn’t understand what he was seeing. There was a shimmer that had nothing to do with the destruction or salvation of this world. It took startling shape. Soldiers. There were soldiers coming.
“Mind you, I quite like hope,” the Doctor said, sitting up a little straighter. “Hope's a good emotion. And here it comes.”
Relief troops arrived - a whole squadron of them. As soon as he saw they were armed, the Doctor dived to the side, taking shelter from any friendly fire behind a chair. Belatedly, he realized the desk would have offered more cover. He was compensated for his dangerous exposure with a very good a view of the action. He took perverse joy in watching the Cyberleader's head explode. It wouldn't slow the metal army down one jot, but it would take them a few moments to recruit the next leader. He could use a few moments to regroup.
“Doctor? Good to see you again.”
“Jake?” He couldn't believe it.
And he wasn't given time to process the ramifications of a rescue effort mounted from a parallel world. Before he could explain about the dangers of hopping from one Earth to the next, Jake hijacked him, announcing upon arrival, “Parallel Earth, Parallel Torchwood.”
Parallel Pete Tyler. And suddenly, the Doctor had the first glimmerings of an idea.
“You're not in charge here,” Pete told him. “This is our world, not yours. And you're going to listen, for once.”
Of all the bloody cheek, the Doctor thought. Rose was in danger. Jackie could be dead or dying at any moment and this…this vitamin salesman wanted to dither on about ancient history. The Doctor stuffed his hands in his pockets and, while Jake and Pete told him all about their fight against the Cyber-menace, he walked to the wall that mirrored the one in his world. He pressed his ear to it, just where the breech had occurred, and listened to the void. It didn't sound even remotely like the ocean. But across it, on the other shore, he could sense Rose in the orb room.
His Rose was still alive and fighting. Pride surged through him and he knew he could do no less. He had to keep fighting, too. Turning his back on his desire to rip through to her with his bare hands, he put on his attentive face, crossed his arms and leaned into the wall to hear these alternative players out.
It seemed over three years had passed, here, while less than two had gone by on his Earth. So the worlds intersected at diverse points on their respective time streams. His lower lip protruded a little as he digested this. It could prove useful. It meant the bridge across the void was unstable, something AlternaPete must be made to realize. The Doctor gave him an assessing look. The man wasn't stupid. Despite what Jackie had led him to believe, it appeared Rose came by her perceptive nature genetically after all.
The three men walked together to the window and looked out on a world at peace, a world with no Cybermen and no Daleks. “They're calling this the Golden Age,” Pete said. “But it's all a lie.”
Of course it was a lie. Sweet motherly Harriet Jones was their President. Harriet Jones, who he had admired almost as much as Queen Victoria, had turned out to be cut from the same cloth. Rassilon spare him from ruthless women rulers, they were more cold-blooded than the Zygons.
“I've been trying to tell you travel between parallel worlds is impossible,” he said with as much force as he could muster. He pointed dramatically toward the window. “Every time you jump from one reality to another you rip a hole in the universe. This planet is starting to boil. Keep going and both worlds will fall into the void.”
“But you can stop it,” Pete Tyler wheedled, sounding very like his daughter. “The famous Doctor, you can seal the breach?”
“Leaving five million Cybermen stranded on my Earth.” And no thank you.
“That's your problem,” Pete said, his dismissive attitude reminding the Doctor forcefully of Jackie's pragmatism. There was certainly a Tyler family resemblance at work. “I'm protecting this world, and this world only.”
Instead of asking how he expected to win an argument using such self-serving logic, the Doctor grinned. Pete and Jackie Tyler deserved one another. They were a good match. And that gave him an idea, the beginnings of a plan. He raked his gaze over the man as he said, “Pete Tyler, I knew you when you were dead.” Oh, yes, there was definitely something about the Tyler family he found compelling. Perhaps it was their belief in him, coupled with their unshakable grasp on their own reality. They had no hesitation at all in asking him to do the impossible.
“Doctor, help us,” Pete requested.
“What? Close the breech? Stop the Cybermen? Defeat the Daleks?” The timbre of his voice climbed on each consecutive question. “Do you believe I can do that?”
“Yes,” Pete said, simply.
“Maybe that's all I need,” the Doctor mused. He recalled how Rose had saved him at the lowest point in his life. How his belief in her had allowed them both to escape the sanctuary base. Maybe all he needed was that Tyler family faith to bolster his resolve. He certainly didn't want to let them down. And his mind was churning with new ideas, now. Convinced, he beamed and said, “Off we go, then.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inspiration whipped the Doctor into furious action as soon as they returned to his proper reality. Shaking off the pull of the void, he leaped for the nearest desk phone and dialed Jackie's mobile. To his immense relief, she answered. He spoke across her cry for help, gently urging her to focus. As soon as he had her direction, he rang off and turned to Pete.
“She's not my wife,” Pete said, focusing like mad on his own reality.
“I was at the wedding,” the Doctor told him. “You got her name wrong.” Bounding over to Jake, he snatched away the lad's weapon. “Now then, Jakie-boy, if I can open up the bonding chamber on this thing, it can work on polycarbide.”
Jake, bless him, asked all the right questions and they were soon on top of a plan to rescue Rose. The Doctor entertained no debate over Rose's rescue taking priority. First things first, he declared, before any planet saving or breech closing occurred, they would reunite the team. Mickey was down there, too, he reminded the alternative world soldiers. Surely, they meant to save Mickey? As he posed this question, the sputtering Pete subsided into silence.
Having shamelessly manipulated everyone onto his side, the Doctor sent them scurrying off on tasks.
“You, what’s your name?”
“Alonzo, sir, Alonzo Rodriguez.”
“Is it? Well, Alonzo, I'll need a few things for my next miracle, hope you don't mind stopping by the warehouses to pick up some supplies.” Snatching a post-it note from one of the nearest desktop organizers, he started scrawling a list. “Oh, and I'll need a sheet of A-4, blank, and some sort of pointer or baton or...stick.” When nobody stirred, he glanced up, lifting both brows at Pete. Gesturing one handed, the Doctor shooed him away. “Now! Go on. Paper. Stick.”
By the dark look on Pete's face, he wasn't used to being sent on errands. Tough, the Doctor thought, because this is my world and I mean to save it. All he needed was a little cooperation from the Cybermen. And the Daleks. And the void. And Rose and her mother. Okay, a bit of luck wouldn't hurt either.
He wondered how Rose was faring a few floors down. Reaching out with his mind, he could sense her fear and her anger. He longed to soothe her. But he couldn't afford to keep the connection open, any minute now the Daleks could discover their psychic link. He had no idea why they were keeping her alive but he would wager it had something to do with their Genesis Arc. And knowing how important Rose was to him wouldn’t do anything good for her lifespan. Rose had lots of unique qualities. She'd traveled in time and bonded with a Time Lord. Those two experiences had left her inundated with miscellaneous chemicals and radiant particles. She had also crossed the void, as had Mickey. But Rassilon help them all if the Daleks discovered just how unique Rose really was. He didn’t want to think about that power inside her breaking loose.
Coincidentally, he arrived to rescue her just as she was telling the Daleks all about it. Thanks to a bit of forward planning, he crouched, undetected, outside the Orb Room doors and patched into the local security cameras. He was amazed by the way every Dalek eyestalk had fixated on Rose. She held the group spellbound with her tale of falling Empires. As the Doctor worked on opening the door, he listened to her enthralling them.
“Don't you want to know what happened?” He heard her ask.
The Dalek stayed on topic, “Place your hand...”
“What happened to the Emperor,” Rose clarified.
“The Emperor survived?” Was that a note of hope in the metallic voice?
“Until he met me,” Rose said, silkily. “Cause if these are going to be my last words, then you're going to listen. I met the Emperor and I took the Time Vortex and I poured it into his head and turned him into dust.” The Doctor shivered, hearing a Wagnerian chorus in his own head as he sonically navigated his way through the final door lock. She was telling them the secret to ruling creation. All they needed was her.
“Do you get that,” she was saying as the door swished open. “God of all the Daleks.” She was nose to eye-stalk with the thing. “And I destroyed him. HA!” She crowed, and just for a second, the Doctor wondered if she really could have been as vengeful in her manipulation of the Vortex as any Time Lord.
Then, the Black Dalek snapped, “You will be exterminated.” And he decided it was past time to enter the fray.
“Now, hold on. Wait a minute.”
Daleks were physically incapable of starting in surprise, but these four gave a good approximation of it. The other Daleks, the ones who should have been on watch but had, instead, been distracted by Rose, suddenly went into alarm mode. “Alert! Alert!”
“You are the Doctor!”
Tell me something I don't know, he thought, sauntering in hands in pockets. He cast a vacantly sweet smile around the room, ending on his Rose. She beamed back at him, bouncing for joy, even though he'd done nothing to inspire it as yet. Chances were quite good they'd all be dead in a second.
“Sensors report he is unarmed,” one of the Daleks intoned.
“That's me, always,” he said.
“Then, you are powerless,” the black Dalek declared.
“Not me, never,” he told it, before whipping off his 3-D glasses and turning solicitously to greet his wife. “How are you?” he asked, putting as much adoration as he dared into the greeting.
Rose easily picked up on his mental signals. Dialing back her enthusiasm, she said, “Oh, same old. You know.”
What a helpmate she was, distracting the enemy and keeping a cool head when he came to rescue her. A lesser woman might have fainted or screamed or given in to hysterics, but not his Rose. Those same sensors that had just frisked him would have picked him up outside the door if she hadn't been occupying the troops with delightful bedtime stories. Of course, they would also pick up Jake's men circling closer, if he didn't keep them off guard. Time for his own floor show.
“Good,” he peeped, moving on before he gave in to his need for a hug. “And Mickity-Mick-Mickey, nice to see ya!”
Mickey returned his fist-to-fist greeting saying, “And you, boss.”
Boss? He liked that. He took a moment to admire the change three years of fighting had made in Mickey Smith. The boy had a sparse, well-trained figure now. And he'd been looking after Rose. Good. The Daleks tried to reassert their authority, but the Doctor kept them off balance with a line of patter similar to the one Rose had used. He reminded them that they'd lost the war, run away from it when he'd stood to fight.
“Doctor, they’ve got names,” Rose said.
Four Daleks with names, they could only be one group. “The cult of Skaro,” he exclaimed with a pleased smirk, “At last, I thought you were just a legend.”
He explained a bit about the Cult of Skaro, stalling for time to give Jake and his troops a chance to get into position, arm the explosives and take cover. The black Dalek threatened him, but he played the buffoon. As he stepped back, he drew out his sonic screwdriver. The Daleks recognized it, of course, labeling it a harmless probe. He corrected them to screwdriver but grudgingly acknowledged it was harmless.
“Doesn't kill. Doesn't wound. Doesn't maim. But I'll tell you what it does do. It is very good at opening doors,” he said and pressed the triggering sequence for the detonators.
There was a gratifying series of explosions. Doors flew from their hinges. A second later, gunfire erupted all around him. He hit the deck, pulling his young friends to the ground as he dropped. “Rose, get out” he shouted, pushing at her bottom, propelling her forward. The Cyberguns blasted over his head. Peeking around the Genesis Arc, he saw Rose scrambling toward the door. He rolled in the opposite direction and looked toward her again. Beyond her Pete was gesticulating. The Doctor drew fire away from them, dropping under another bolt of energy. Pete had Rose. Once she made it through the door, the Doctor found his feet and darted for safety. Mickey tarried to recover a gun.
As the Doctor reached the exit, Rose yelled, “Mickey, come on.”
“Fire power restored,” a Dalek declared.
Damn. He'd hoped his sonic pulse would scramble their wiring for a little longer than that, at least long enough to get everyone out of the room. He saw Mickey stumble and fall back into the Dalek's precious Arc. It seemed to burn his hand, he winced and jerked away from it. Time Lord science, the Doctor thought. But it still didn't look the least bit familiar to him. What the hell was it?
Mickey got through the doors and the Doctor sealed them.
“Jake, get to the stairwell,” he ordered as he herded his little family back toward the warehouses.
Despite a raid on the storerooms, he hadn't managed to recover the one piece of alien technology he really needed: Magna-clamps. On the other hand, he had managed to reunite Rose and her alterna-dad. And on the way to the large warehouse, the one that masqueraded as a parking garage, they ran into a pair of Cyberman about to finish off Jackie. Pete and his big gun disposed of the enemy with a quick blast and, for a few moments, all the chaos fade away leaving their small group alone at the eye of the storm.
When Pete and Jackie connected again, the Doctor couldn't help feeling elated. He couldn’t help comparing himself to Jackie as she told Pete there had never been anyone else. Mickey snorted, but the Doctor understood exactly what Jackie meant. If he lived another 900 years and took a dozen lovers, not one of them would ever replace Rose Marion Tyler. For him, too, there would never be anyone else.
He smiled on Jackie, feeling a sudden deeper kinship with her, and he chuckled when she couldn't let go of her curiosity about Pete's fortunes. And when Rose's parents finally rushed into each other's arms, the Doctor found himself grinning ear-to-ear. The jubilant rush of blood to his head was not only for Rose. It was because in some way Rose's family had become his family. What an odd pair we are, he thought, as Mickey gave him a quick high-five, like Fagin's orphans, considered part of the family. And if his plan worked, his new family would be somewhere safe. He glanced at Rose. Her hands were folded, as if in prayer, knuckles pressed to her lips. She stood very still, transfixed by the sight of her parents holding onto one another. Finally, the universe had done something right.
It was the last thing that went right for him for a very long time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He had a plan.
A very good plan.
A plan based on Time Lord Science, and on everyone cooperating.
Pete and Mickey would use their dimension-hopping discs to take Jackie and Rose to Pete's World. Once his family was secure, the Doctor would be free to deal with the Daleks. And their lesser Cyberfoes. He planned to open the breech to the void, sucking in every Dalek and Cyberman—sending them to Hell, as Mickey so succinctly put it. Of course, it would be tricky to do the job alone. He could very well end up sealed within the void himself. But Rose would be safe. Safe! Happy! With her mother. No, better than that; she would be with both of her parents. And Mickey. On a world that had never even heard of the Daleks.
It was a good plan.
Except the Tyler women were as cooperative as cats in harness. And the plan required him to be in two places at the same time. He'd need to be on opposite sides of the white room to operate the levers. This meant he would have to cross the room against the current created by the opened void. Also, it meant the Daleks would be alerted to his plan before he was ready to implement it. The breech would be active, but completely unstable. The Daleks would surely enter firing their weapons as they fought to escape the pull of the void. He'd probably be exterminated long before he could cross the room. It would be very rough going, even given his intention to hold fast to one magna-clamp while repositioning the other. Tricky, but doable.
He watched Rose's face as he explained how it would all work. He'd expected their goodbye to be painful. He'd expected the sharp pang at the center of his chest when her expression changed to one of hurt confusion. But, as the full impact of his words dawned on her, she looked so vulnerable; he’d had to move away from her to keep from losing his courage.
He took refuge, as he often did, in being very busy. Bouncing about, he braced himself for her arguments.
He'd expected her to plead with him.
He hadn't expected open defiance. Though, he probably should have.
“I'm supposed to go?” Rose asked her tone deceptively calm, a counterpoint to his deceptive frenzy.
“Yeah,” he said, dropping a magnaclamp, hoping the noise would cover any tremor in his voice.
“To another world, and then it gets sealed off?”
“Yeah,” he said again, trying for devil-may-care but managing only colorless and breathy. His gaze slipped to the side, avoiding hers. He couldn't bear to look at her for long, if he did he'd simply go to her, hold on and never let go.
“Forever?” she asked.
His throat closed and he couldn't even manage one syllable agreement. Punching numbers into the computer, he remained stoically focused, but silent. What was there to say? She simply couldn't go forever. That wasn't possible, was it? What would he do without her?
As if she also understood this, Rose snorted through a bemused smile and said exactly what he was thinking, “That's not going to happen.”
Yes! His soul declared triumphantly. It couldn't happen, could it? That was why this was such a good plan. When he'd come up with it, a very small, childish part of him told him it was all quite silly and that Rose would never let it happen. Even as his mind and body went through the motions of setting up computers, that small part of him refused to believe he was going through with this. Rose was eternal, his life mate. She would always come back to him. He believed in her. The universe simply wouldn't, couldn't separate them, not when he'd already lost so much.
He glanced at the two magnaclamps as Rose argued with her mother. If she stayed, Rose could help him with the plan. It would work much better with two. But, now, Jackie was refusing to leave as well. And any second, the Daleks would notice the wave fluctuations in this room and know what he was doing. He steeled his resolve and eased the yellow disc from his pocket. Pete had also taken a disc out. Stepping closer to Rose, and, with a nod to Pete, he put the dimensional transporter over her head. Pete hit the button and Rose was gone.
Only she wasn't, he could still feel her in the room, just on the other side of the wall. Until the breech closed, she would be right there. Almost beside him...almost...
“I think this is the on switch,” Rose said, brightly, as she popped back into his universe.
He wanted to scream, in joy and desperation. A heady cocktail of endorphins hit his blood stream, triggering a score of conflicting and aggressive emotions. At any other time, this sort of response would have cascaded into sexual display and release. Elated, he wanted to hug her. Frustrated, he wanted shake her. He wanted to make love to her, while scolding her. Before he could process more than one or tow of his many impulses, he pounced, seizing her arms.
“Once the bridge collapses, that's it! You will never be able to see her again, your own mother.”
It was his trump card and he played it knowing he had to let her go. Rose flinched slightly, but her jaw set in a firm line and her gaze met his squarely. “I made my choice a long time ago,” she told him, softly assured, “And I'm never going to leave you.”
Well, what the hell could he say to that? It was how he felt as well. He would never leave her. There was a certain finality to it. They would stand or fall together. Somehow, he'd let himself imagine she could recover from losing him, be happy without him. But she'd been telling him all along she couldn't. For years now, she'd been telling him. He could see her upper lip trembling. Tell her now, he thought, tell her it's the same for you. Tell her you only sent her away because you can't bear to have her die here.
And then what? He asked himself, panicking over it. What could he do? Take her away from all this, fly far away and let her planet burn? No! He couldn't do that. He was a Time Lord. The last of the Time Lords. So, when Rose asked him what she could do to help, he forced himself to release her. Passion still seethed in his vein, but they had a job to do. His voice grated harshly as he stabbed a finger at the far computers and told her how to set all coordinates to six.
“And hurry up,” he snarled, inwardly reprimanding himself for wanting to take a moment to kiss her breathless.
She went obediently to work. He almost smiled at the diffident glance she shot him as she removed the disc from her neck and set it aside. If only she were this tractable when it mattered to one of his plans.
“We've got Cybermen on the way up,” she said, as her security equipment beeped.
His monitor had malfunctioned. He popped across the room to her side to verify the bad news. As he peered over her shoulder, his hand found its natural home at her waist. There was a bit of bared skin there, just enough to sooth his jangling nerves. He stroked her and his blood and brain spoke her name, Rose. I’m here, she said in his mind. And, despite the chilling sight of the Cybermen, he felt comforted.
She’d been quite right about one thing: the universe kept trying to separate them, but it never, ever would. On the other hand, it might decide to kill them both together. The thought sent him dashing away with an inner oath. There was an improbable burst of weapons fire outside the door. Someone was still resisting, some remnant of Torchwood. His curiosity prodded him, but there was no time to investigate. Skidding to a halt at his computer terminal, he entered the necessary codes to activate the levers and waited for what seemed like an eternity but was, in all probability, less than a second. He beamed when the computerized voice informed him the levers were online.
“That's more like it,” Rose said, grinning. “Bit of a smile. The old team?”
He agreed. They were like any classic duo. “Hope and Glory. Mutt and Jeff. Shiver and Shake.”
“Which one's Shiver?” she asked, pulling a face.
He thrust a magnaclamp into her arms and said, “Oh, I'm Shake.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a hole in the world, a howling abyss, the stuff of nightmares. He'd dreamed about it. For months on end, it had pursued him across time and space, a relentless prediction of hollow days and nights ahead. Understanding how important it was and how dangerous, he’d done everything in his power to avoid it.
Yet, in the end, it was his hand that brought it into being. “The breech is open! Ha! Into the abyss!”
His hand had destroyed his world. Filled with hubris, he'd entered those fatal calculations. And once again, the universe had laughed in his face. It had opened a maw that threatened to swallow him whole. And again, he screamed. Hands fisted around cold metal, he screamed his throat raw. Every cell in his body denied what his senses mercilessly reported. Rose had let go of her anchor. Faced with inevitable extermination, should the system fail, she'd chosen to fight, but she was losing the battle.
The valiant child, who will die in battle so very, very soon.
Any second now, she would die. The pull of the void was too strong. Her shoulders would dislocate and she'd be cast into hell. He saw her grip on the lever slip. The dimensional currents were tearing her in two, distorting her body. She couldn't possibly win out against such an unrelenting force.
“Rose,” he yelled. “Hold on.”
She sought his eye, held onto him as much as to the lever. One by one, the void pried her fingers free. He was losing her, losing Rose to the white room. Worms crawled around in his brain, leaving sticky tendrils of insanity in their wake. He reached for her, straining to take her hand, knowing they were too far apart. She fell and, as she did, one thing became quite clear to him: he'd never left the asylum. This was part of his madness, the cold spittle on his lips, the raw heat of his straining throat, this child he loved, her screaming and his, the howling nothingness, the loss. Everything would burn again. He would see to it that everything burned.
This time nothing would survive. He'd crack this universe like an egg and scramble it. Let them all learn what it meant to deny him...defy him. No second chances.
Only there was one, a second chance. Pete caught her. Pete, bless him and keep him, took a second stab at becoming a family man. He popped into being and caught Rose a scant meter from the void. She threw one glance over her shoulder at the Doctor, one pleading glance, and then she was gone.
“Systems closed,” the computer informed in a cool and emotionless manner.
It took a moment for him to register what he’d seen. It was over. He panted like a trapped animal, his hearts pounding, as he stared into the void in his mind, the empty place where Rose should be. He couldn't process the wall for a few seconds. Didn't realize the breech had closed, even though he'd been severed in two by it. But the rushing in his ears slowly faded and the tension in his body bled away, leaving him limp and exhausted. Rose had survived. He could hear her wailing through the minute fissures still connecting their two dimensions. She wasn't in Hell. She was safe, with her family.
And, oh, yes, it hurt. It hurt so very much to be empty again. But he could wrap her around his pain. She was alive. Alive! This pain was nothing to what it might have been. He would gladly endure more; suffer anything, as long it kept Rose from the void. He'd been prepared, after all, to let her go.
But Rose? Rose wasn't prepared. Her keening despair drew him to the wall. He touched her through it, pressed his cheek to the cool, white surface and imagined her just beyond it, beyond his reach. He gave much as he could give to her. He felt her respond, mirror him. But it was hopeless. They couldn't stand there forever, no matter how much they might comfort one another. Eventually, the fissures would seal and they would have nothing but memories. He had to let her go, give her a chance at a normal life. Steeling himself, he eased his hand away, stepped back and turned to leave.
His leaden steps took him to the elevators, and then out into the street. He couldn't go back to the TARDIS, not yet. She would ask him about Rose. He walked, instead, toward the Powell Estates. Burning cars and fallen bodies gave mute testament to the extent of the battle that he'd halted. Sirens sounded all over the city. Survivors clung to one another, weeping and laughing. He felt numbly connected to them, but could neither laugh nor cry. No one approached him. He passed like a phantom through the city he'd just saved.
Climbing the last set of stairs to the Tyler apartment, his hand closed around Rose's key and a new measure of pain assaulted him. It seemed to knock him out of his body. He couldn't feel the steps beneath his feet. The world faded, for a moment, into a sickly gray fog. The sound of alarms and shouting receded as he reached out to Rose with all of his longing. Stretched thin mentally, he searched for some answering spark from her. “Rose,” he called. “Rose?” And far away, like a whisper on the wind, he heard her. She was alive, safe. The effort left him weak and staggering and he nearly plummeted down the stairwell before he managed to make it into the apartment.
He didn't need his key. Someone, Cybermen or looters, had kicked in the door. It hung from one hinge and creaked horribly when he pushed through it. The television was gone and a few other items. The lights didn't work. Overall, the place looked ransacked and felt abandoned. But he was beyond caring. He needed to rest, to recover, and to do that he needed to feel close to Rose. Making his way to her room, he collapsed on her bed. Only there, surrounded by her scent and her things, did he process the extent of his loss. He retched, bile burning the back of his tongue. But he could not weep, could not wail out loud. His pain went far too deep. Fingers clawing at the bedspread, he drew his knees up, curling into a fetal ball around his hollow center. Nothing, there was nothing inside of him. No tears. No rage. No hope.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hello? Is anyone here? Mrs. Tyler?” a familiar voice sang out hours later. “I've just come to check on you. I hope you don't mind. Hello?”
Another voice cut across the first, this one a stranger, male and Pakistani, “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“Oh, you startled me. Hello, my name is Sarah Jane Smith,” the first voice answered. “I'm a friend of the Tyler family.”
“They are gone. And we have had enough looters.”
Sarah Jane laughed. “Do I look like a looter? Wait a moment,” there was a brief pause, “My identification. I'm a journalist.”
“From the BBC?”
“Freelance Investigative,” Sarah said, brusquely. “Were you here when this happened? Did the Cybermen do this? Kick the door in?”
“The what?”
“The metal men? The armored soldier?”
“I do not know. We were away. I work in a shop. Bell's Ready Wear? I stock. My wife, she works at Tesco. People say there were many looters just after. They stole my stereo CD player. And our son's video games. And my mother's wedding photo. Who would steal a wedding photo?”
“I'm sorry. Here, take my card. If you hear from the Tyler's call me. If I have any questions, I'll come see you. Which apartment?”
“525,” he said. “Just down there. Do you want me to stay here with you?” He didn't sound enthusiastic about the prospect.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Sarah Jane said, dismissively. “I can wave at you on my way out, if you like.”
“Ah, you seem like a nice lady. Just be careful.”
“I will, thank you,” Sarah said, brightly adding, “Bye-bye!”
The departing man's tread was heavy on the stairs. He must have weighed sixteen stone. The Doctor listened to him thunder down two flights, before Sarah Jane closed the creaking door. Her light, cautious step led her directly to Rose's room. She gasped when she saw him and flurried across to the bedside.
“Doctor?” she said, crouching down before him. “Doctor? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?”
Yes, he certainly was hurt. Heartsick. Lost. He could hear her, too, but he didn't feel the need to tell her so. He stared straight through her, unresponsive, even when she waved her hand in front of his eyes.
“Oh, God,” she said, settling to her knees. “It's Rose, isn't it?” He saw her glance toward the damaged front door. “Did they take her...the Cybermen?” Looking at him again, she gave a tiny impatient snort and, grasping his shoulder, shook him. “Doctor? Answer me! Is she dead?”
“Gone,” he managed to croak.
“Gone? Where?”
It took a great deal of effort but he focused on her briefly and said, “Far away.”
“What does that mean? How far? Why are you just…lying here like a lump?” When he failed to answer her, she grumbled, “Fine, let's get you sorted out, first, and then we'll figure out what to do.” He didn't know what she meant by 'sorted out', but he soon learned.
Standing, Sarah Jane dusted off the front of her jeans as she gave the situation some thought. He could see her quite clearly, despite the advancing twilight. The hall light had come on sometime ago, when electricity was restored to the area. The dim glow was all he needed. It hadn't bothered him. Sarah Jane, however, set out to bother him.
The first thing she did was switch on the bedside lamp, shining it straight into his face. He winced, shielding his eyes against the glare. Then, crossing the room, she hit the overhead light as well, flooding his dark cocoon of grief with dazzling brightness. He stifled a whimper and curled into a tighter ball, determined to remain unmoved by her efforts to stir him. A moment later he thought he'd succeeded in intimidating her as she bustled out of the room and proceeded to bang about in the kitchen.
Any hope he had that she would leave was dashed, however, by the sound of the kettle whistling. She was making tea. Tannins to stimulate his synapses, clever girl. He wouldn't drink it, of course, but the smell alone would kick some life back into him. It would inspire animation he didn't want. He wanted his synapses to hibernate. He wanted to fade away, maybe die, maybe regenerate. He didn’t want to confront his loss, not yet, maybe not ever. If Sarah Jane hoped to rouse him from his self-imposed exile, she'd have to do better than a nice cuppa.
Unfortunately, she knew that. “Let’s see if this makes an impression,” she said, just as he was settling into his mindless gray haze again.
He heard the click of her quick tread approaching, but was completely unprepared when something soft and fluttery hit him in the face. He inhaled reflexively and his brain came alive. His eyes popped open. Trillions of synapses fired. His cnidocysts bristled and he lit up inside like Time Square on New Year's Eve. Rose. Her scent pervaded the blue fabric veiling his eyes. He instinctively reached for her again, probing the wound. As he strained the limits of his telepathic connection to her, his fingers clutched at the silken material, dragging it away from his face. Holding it up, he saw it was her blue and purple shirt. The one she'd worn on their visit to New Earth. He drew another breath, hoping to clear the perfume of Rose from his head, but it was too late to undo what had been done.
“You can find her with that, can't you?” Sarah Jane challenged him. “There's some kind of connection to the clothes we wear. You can use to trace her. I’ve seen you do it, link up your mind to someone and follow them like a bloodhound.”
She was right. And yet, she had no idea what she had unleashed. Rose was here. Almost, here. His true companion. The air had thickened around him. It was full of charged particles, every one of them reminding him of his loss and his need for comfort. Anguish and ardor combined into a maelstrom of primitive impulse. He sat up in the bed, searching for Rose. He needed to be complete. When his predatory gaze settled on Sarah Jane, he saw her only as a means to that end.
His biology demanded certain behaviors. Once he'd found a true companion, he was supposed to breed, to keep at it until he succeeded in reproducing. If he lost his mate, he was programmed to die, to just give up, unless he could find another female to produce his offspring. He eyed Sarah Jane. Even if this one proved too old to breed, she could alleviate his despair, at least for an hour or two. He would be able to think clearly again. Taking her would give him some relief from this relentless clamoring for Rose. It wasn't unprecidented. He thought of Omega, who had used human surrogates when his true companion refused him. Would it be so bad to give Sarah Jane what she'd always wanted? Once she was drugged and he'd entered her mind, he could even be the image of his former self for her, all teeth and curls.
He was tensed to pounce when she said, “Or are you just going to abandon Rose, too?”
The question splashed cold water in the face of his animal self. He remembered who he was and what he had done all those years ago. He had abandoned Sarah Jane. She'd loved him and he'd left her before things could get too far out of hand. He’d been a Time Lord, then. And he was a Time Lord, still. He belonged to Rose, but he would not be ruled by his libido. He would not diminish his love by using Sarah Jane to satisfy some biological urge. It wouldn't make anything better for her or him. It would only complicate an already impossible situation. These weren't primitive time and he wasn't Omega. Sarah Jane was his friend. He adored her.
But as she reached for him he ducked away from her. “I...need a minute,” he grated through clenched teeth. “Alone.”
“I'm not leaving this room until I get some answers,” she told him. “Rose is my friend.”
Narrowing his eyes, he snarled, “Rose is everything.”
“Yes, I can see that,” she admitted, edging to the side, instinctively avoiding easy capture. Somehow, she must have sensed the danger she was in. “Doctor? Are you ill?”
“I’m…” he took a steadying breath and forced himself to relax, forced his bristling arousal to subside. “I’m fine.”
“You look half-mad to me.”
He wanted to rage at her. He wanted to shout, “She’s gone!” Gone—the word hammered against the inside of his skull. He clutched at his temples with both hands, fingers fisting around tufts of his hair. No matter what, he couldn't allow himself to slip back into raving instablity.
“I lost her,” he said, hollowly. “And I could shatter this world.” His intense, wild-eyed stare lifted and intersected Sarah Jane’s steady one. “Do you understand that?”
She did understand. He could see the fear welling up in her. But she swallowed and raised her chin a little. “Yes, I suppose you could. But I don't think you will.”
“Be sure.” He needed her to convince him.
“All right," she said, exhaling. "You're not just any Time Lord. Even if you have the power to destroy us, you're not like the Master or the rest. And whatever has happened to her, whatever is happening to you, this is still your home away from home. The Earth and Rose are still part of you. She wouldn't want you to give up, to stop being the Doctor. Wherever she is, right now, the thought of you keeps her fighting. I know...because...” She broke off, staring beyond him. “She loves you.”
Let me back. Let me back.
He remembered how desperate Rose sounded in the white room, how she seemed to be pounding on the walls of reality. Sarah Jane was right. Rose would keep fighting. She'd never give up on him, never live the life he wanted her to have. And it was just possible that she, too, could shatter worlds. He had to warn her not to try. And he had to say everything he'd put off saying. I love you. I'll miss you. I'm okay. Goodbye. He couldn't let Rose go without giving her closure. Humans could remain loyal forever, he'd learned this through Sarah Jane.
There was so much he should have told her, too. Seeing her with fresh eyes, he said, “I'm so sorry. I should have told you what you wanted was impossible. I should have said a proper goodbye.”
“You got to it, eventually,” she said, shrugging as if it didn't matter to her anymore, but he knew by the glistening of tears in her eyes that it did.
He smiled, a sad smile that didn't warm either of them. Then, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “The fissures are closing, sealing her away,” he said, seeing the last few gaps on the far side of the galaxy. “There isn't much time.” Springing suddenly to action, he snatched Rose's shirt from the bed, and then whirled about to face Sarah Jane. “Thank you,” he said, thrusting out his hand before changing his mind and leaning in to place a quick kiss on her cheek. “You're my best friend, Sarah Jane.”
“K-9 will be very disappointed if he hears.”
“He will, yes. So we won't tell him. I have to go, now,” he said, backing toward the door. “There's still a chance I can reach her if I hurry. And," he hesitated slightly, "I'm not sure if I'll see you again.”
“Same old story,” Sarah Jane said with a smile. “Give Rose my love, when you find her.”
He already had reached the hallway, but her words turned him around again. “She's not coming back,” he said, his voice cloudy with anguish. “But she can have a good life, a normal life, if I let her know this is goodbye.”
“Can she?” Sarah Jane wondered, but he didn't stay to debate it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was harder getting into the Torchwood Institute than it had been wandering out, but he managed to convince the armed guards that he was the one and only Doctor and had come to help. Their bureaucracy was in chaos, but there was enough infrastructure left to assure he was recognized. He presented himself with an absolute authority and told them he needed his equipment to deal with this crisis. After a bit of questioning, they led him to the TARDIS and he simply popped inside and faded out of their lives.
Navigating proved problematic at first. The TARDIS responded sluggishly to his interface commands. He patted her, stroked her, but nothing seemed to improve her performance. She seemed...he supposed the word was inattentive, less aware of him somehow. It crossed his mind to wonder if she was in shock, maybe missing Rose, too. After all, she'd been closer to Rose than to any other companion save Susan.
“Steady on, old girl,” he soothed, paging through star charts on the monitor. “It'll be just you and me again for a bit, but we'll get by...same old life.”
He adjusted the Meliman Spectrograph, searching the heavens for a likely star. It would take an obscene amount of energy to project his image across the void. He'd have to burn up a sun just to say goodbye. But it would be worth it if Rose could find a measure of happiness without him.
END THIS PART
by Rabid1st
Doctor Who
Ten/Rose
Ratings: Adult +
Beta Babes: Keswindhover, larielromeniel, and thewinterqueen also, Measi and queenrikki_hp. With a special shout-out to Lil and Jei for their YIM help.
Summary: It's the end of the world as we know it. Spoilers to Doomsday
Disclaimer: I work my little fingers to the bone and I'm still not entitled to any royalties. Nobody invites me to the sound stages in Cardiff. I had to sneak into the company picnic, avoiding security and such while I ate fried chicken and potato salad, but that's okay because all rights to Doctor Who and it's characters belong to the BBC, Russell T. Davies and assorted production companies.
CLICK HERE FOR ALL PREVIOUS PARTS
PART TWENTY-THREE
The world flickered before him, like a celluloid film shown a hundred times too often. He'd seen this reel before, the final battle sequence. It tended to stick and burn on the projector light. Static buzzed in his head. But through the white noise, he could hear the indistinct drone of overlapping voices. His own words came to him quite clearly, the memory of them tightly tuned to a frequency.
“And when you go back to the stars and tell others of this planet, when you tell them of its riches, its people, its potential...when you talk of the Earth, then make sure that you tell them this: It is defended!”
Another voice, the most beloved one, also came back to him in sharp detail, “Doctor, they've got guns.” But the speakers in his memory kept overlapping the here and now.
They've got guns, Doctor. Pulse particle guns trained on the Capital.
“And I don't. Which makes me the better person, don't you think? They can shoot me dead, but the moral high ground is mine.”
The white room started to fade around him, as the sound of weapons fire and the screams of the dying began overwhelming his reason. He grew numb and even his own voice became hazy in memory. I won't be a party to this. I will not...cannot pull that trigger. Do you have any idea what such a weapon would do?
--We don't have the luxury of taking the moral high ground, Doctor. It's time for you to get your hands dirty.
--Is that where we are, Brellia? Is this the high ground? Look at my hands, old friend. Look at them! My hands may never be clean again.
“She was in the room with that sphere,” Jackie Tyler said, trying to be hopeful. “What's happened to Rose?”
She was on board that ship. Her family. My family. Every last surviving member. Tell me they made it through the blockade. Damn it man, tell me what's happened to Susan?
“I'll find her. I brought you here,” he grated out the promises through clenched teeth, “I'll get you both out, you and your daughter. Jackie, look at me.”
We'll stop them at Arcadia. You have my word. I promise you, the plan will work. The line will hold.
“Rose said about the Daleks, she was terrified of them. What have they done to her, Doctor? Is she dead?”
Through the crackle of static the Master's voice came to him...so many mixed feelings about that. Dead! (static) They're all...(static) Fuck...Doctor, pick up the damned Com. We can't hold them off much longer. We've lost Brellia and Kquieroon...the defense grid is failing.
--Here...(deafening blasts) I'm...we've got...outside the wall (He could barely hear himself speaking...only every third or fourth word...as if the radio static was all in his head. He was bleeding. There was quite a lot of blood and a dizzy sickness...he couldn’t shake it and retched between reports.) ...Ace?
Miraculously the connection cleared as the guns fell silent. --Ace? Gone! Your precious pet is gone. The right flank is bloody well gone. The Cruciform is all that's still standing. They've herded us in here to die. Trapped us like stupid cattle.
Another voice cut in through the static --Heavy fire...(static) The Eye? The (static) Inside the Cruciform...defenses?
The Master spoke again, loud and clear. --Pulverized, Doctor, asteroids and dust. There's nothing left. You have to hold them at Arcadia.(a furious storm of static and then nothing…for too long…nothing)...everything I ever said about you. I'll repent every sin, I swear. Just promise me. Promise me, you will hold them at Arcadia.
“What's upgrading mean?” Jackie sounded as plaintive as a child begging for forgiveness, promising to be good. “Stop, them. I don't want to go, Doctor. No, NO! Doctor...? You promised me. You gave me your word.”
The bleat of the vanquished, bargaining for their lives, their infantile squeaking making no impression on deaf reality, he'd heard that pleading note in his own voice. He remembered it all too well.
Get out. All of you. Romana? Romana, can you hear me? Inquisitor? Zagrocilia? Master? Anyone? Please...please, pick up! You can't be gone. It can't all be gone. Romana? If you can hear me, get out. Get out, now! Arcadia has fallen. Repeat, Arcadia has fallen. They're coming through.
Two lifetimes and a hundred years later, he could still hear the static bursts as the TARDIS tried to patch him through to a capital city already in flames. He could still smell the blood, brains and spent bowels of the fallen. He could still taste the bitter surge of icy bile rising into his throat as TARDIS after TARDIS vanished from the battle grids before him. The rising fear of his own ship filled his mind as they rose over Arcadia. Her keening wail of despair galvanized him into action as more and more of his people died and were downloaded to the Matrix.
The thought of the Matrix focused his resolve. All of that knowledge, all of that power - in the hands of the Daleks? It was unthinkable. They would use the Matrix and the Eye of Harmony to breach the dimensional walls: universe after universe would fall, until there was no life left...anywhere. He couldn't let that happen. Aware of his injuries only in so far as they slowed him, he set to work. He moved like a man neck deep in treacle.
His numb fingers fumbled over buttons and dials. The control room floor dipped and bucked under him as he started the final countdown. He clung to the console and threw the switch to backup the Matrix, the source of all Time Lord Wisdom, copying it to the TARDIS processing core. Her systems red-lined and began overheating. Panels blew off the walls. Fluid leaked from every gasket.
The main lights went out and the emergency ones dimmed. The floor pitched to the right, sending him crashing into what remained of the guard railing. There was more blood now. A slab of spinning debris had slammed into his forehead, gashing open his brow. His knees buckled and his hand, giving up its grip on anchoring stability, went to his temple. The wildly rotating ship tossed him about like an ice cube dropped into a cup. He felt his collarbone break. There would be no respite from the dizzying nausea this time. As he crashed into the time rotor, he held on and clawed his way to the Helmut regulator. His bloodied fingers punched in a gravity sequence.
To his complete amazement, the TARDIS settled into a relatively upright flight pattern. Praising her profusely, he tried to coax a bit more speed from her. The monitor showed the oncoming Dalek ships. The TARDIS coughed and sputtered, her engines smoking. He urged her to try harder, mentally holding her hand. A new peal of warning bells sounded. The circle of weapons fire was closing in on them. There was nothing he could do to save himself, or anyone else.
There was no one left to save. Nothing left but his duty to carry out the last order President Romana had given him—“If we fail.... If we fall...destroy the Eye of Harmony, release the holy power of the Vortex and burn Gallifrey out of the sky, not just here and now but throughout time. You must do this Doctor. If Gallifrey falls.” Every one of his people would die his entire civilization. But it had to be done. Not one Dalek could survive. The cleansing fire was the only way to be sure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a gulf. A gaping hole. A bottomless abyss, opening into the void between realities. A burning rift in time and space. It was mirrored in his mind and soul. He woke up to it each morning, had stared into it endlessly. It didn’t matter if the nothingness reflected blue eyes or brown. The soulless reflection claimed everything. His planet. His past. His people. Everyone he’d ever loved or hated or never heard of or hoped to meet one day. Every photograph fell away, every scrap of paper, every dirty dish. Until there was only the wind remaining, only the sound of things departed. Love and hate and hope rushed toward the rift, slipping by him, tumbling past him into nothingness. He screamed his denial. Screamed until his head ached and his throat bled but there was no one left to hear him. No one left.
“The sphere came through here,” Yvonne said, showing him the wall that had haunted him for over a year. “A hole in the world”
“I just...woke up from this terrible dream,” Jackie mused. “There was this hole...a great gaping hole in the world...and she was falling toward it.”
“So you find the breech,” he said, hoping Yvonne caught the pitch to his voice and appreciated his disappointment in her. “Probe it. The Sphere comes through. Bam! It leaves a hole in the fabric of reality. And that hole? Do you think, should we leave it alone, should we back off, should we play it safe. Nah! You think...let's make it bigger!”
“You are proof,” the Cyberleader grated.
It took a Herculean effort but the Doctor turned from his view of the beleaguered city far below, and brought his attention to bear on the metallic horror beside him.
“Of what?” he asked, not really caring what it meant.
“That emotions destroy you,” it replied.
He wouldn't have thought it could hurt him, but this simple statement pierced his chest like the point of a javelin. He was so lost even this emotionless thing could see it. Tears blurred his vision for a moment, as he thought of all the friends he'd watched fall. He thought of Rose in the sphere room with the Daleks. Terrified, her mother had said. Even if she survived, somehow, even if he managed to save her, he'd lost her mother. How could he ever face her again knowing he'd let her mother die? Rose’s world would fall to the Daleks. And her mother would become a Cyberman just as she’d done in the alternative world. Jackie Tyler had been his responsibility and once again she'd been taken from Rose and converted.
To his surprise he found himself agreeing with the Cyberleader’s assessment of his weakness. “Yeah, I am.”
As he confessed, a twitch in the fabric of reality drew his eye. He'd been looking around corners all day, staring into the oncoming storm, hoping to find a way out, a way to keep this world and his Rose safe. At first he didn’t understand what he was seeing. There was a shimmer that had nothing to do with the destruction or salvation of this world. It took startling shape. Soldiers. There were soldiers coming.
“Mind you, I quite like hope,” the Doctor said, sitting up a little straighter. “Hope's a good emotion. And here it comes.”
Relief troops arrived - a whole squadron of them. As soon as he saw they were armed, the Doctor dived to the side, taking shelter from any friendly fire behind a chair. Belatedly, he realized the desk would have offered more cover. He was compensated for his dangerous exposure with a very good a view of the action. He took perverse joy in watching the Cyberleader's head explode. It wouldn't slow the metal army down one jot, but it would take them a few moments to recruit the next leader. He could use a few moments to regroup.
“Doctor? Good to see you again.”
“Jake?” He couldn't believe it.
And he wasn't given time to process the ramifications of a rescue effort mounted from a parallel world. Before he could explain about the dangers of hopping from one Earth to the next, Jake hijacked him, announcing upon arrival, “Parallel Earth, Parallel Torchwood.”
Parallel Pete Tyler. And suddenly, the Doctor had the first glimmerings of an idea.
“You're not in charge here,” Pete told him. “This is our world, not yours. And you're going to listen, for once.”
Of all the bloody cheek, the Doctor thought. Rose was in danger. Jackie could be dead or dying at any moment and this…this vitamin salesman wanted to dither on about ancient history. The Doctor stuffed his hands in his pockets and, while Jake and Pete told him all about their fight against the Cyber-menace, he walked to the wall that mirrored the one in his world. He pressed his ear to it, just where the breech had occurred, and listened to the void. It didn't sound even remotely like the ocean. But across it, on the other shore, he could sense Rose in the orb room.
His Rose was still alive and fighting. Pride surged through him and he knew he could do no less. He had to keep fighting, too. Turning his back on his desire to rip through to her with his bare hands, he put on his attentive face, crossed his arms and leaned into the wall to hear these alternative players out.
It seemed over three years had passed, here, while less than two had gone by on his Earth. So the worlds intersected at diverse points on their respective time streams. His lower lip protruded a little as he digested this. It could prove useful. It meant the bridge across the void was unstable, something AlternaPete must be made to realize. The Doctor gave him an assessing look. The man wasn't stupid. Despite what Jackie had led him to believe, it appeared Rose came by her perceptive nature genetically after all.
The three men walked together to the window and looked out on a world at peace, a world with no Cybermen and no Daleks. “They're calling this the Golden Age,” Pete said. “But it's all a lie.”
Of course it was a lie. Sweet motherly Harriet Jones was their President. Harriet Jones, who he had admired almost as much as Queen Victoria, had turned out to be cut from the same cloth. Rassilon spare him from ruthless women rulers, they were more cold-blooded than the Zygons.
“I've been trying to tell you travel between parallel worlds is impossible,” he said with as much force as he could muster. He pointed dramatically toward the window. “Every time you jump from one reality to another you rip a hole in the universe. This planet is starting to boil. Keep going and both worlds will fall into the void.”
“But you can stop it,” Pete Tyler wheedled, sounding very like his daughter. “The famous Doctor, you can seal the breach?”
“Leaving five million Cybermen stranded on my Earth.” And no thank you.
“That's your problem,” Pete said, his dismissive attitude reminding the Doctor forcefully of Jackie's pragmatism. There was certainly a Tyler family resemblance at work. “I'm protecting this world, and this world only.”
Instead of asking how he expected to win an argument using such self-serving logic, the Doctor grinned. Pete and Jackie Tyler deserved one another. They were a good match. And that gave him an idea, the beginnings of a plan. He raked his gaze over the man as he said, “Pete Tyler, I knew you when you were dead.” Oh, yes, there was definitely something about the Tyler family he found compelling. Perhaps it was their belief in him, coupled with their unshakable grasp on their own reality. They had no hesitation at all in asking him to do the impossible.
“Doctor, help us,” Pete requested.
“What? Close the breech? Stop the Cybermen? Defeat the Daleks?” The timbre of his voice climbed on each consecutive question. “Do you believe I can do that?”
“Yes,” Pete said, simply.
“Maybe that's all I need,” the Doctor mused. He recalled how Rose had saved him at the lowest point in his life. How his belief in her had allowed them both to escape the sanctuary base. Maybe all he needed was that Tyler family faith to bolster his resolve. He certainly didn't want to let them down. And his mind was churning with new ideas, now. Convinced, he beamed and said, “Off we go, then.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inspiration whipped the Doctor into furious action as soon as they returned to his proper reality. Shaking off the pull of the void, he leaped for the nearest desk phone and dialed Jackie's mobile. To his immense relief, she answered. He spoke across her cry for help, gently urging her to focus. As soon as he had her direction, he rang off and turned to Pete.
“She's not my wife,” Pete said, focusing like mad on his own reality.
“I was at the wedding,” the Doctor told him. “You got her name wrong.” Bounding over to Jake, he snatched away the lad's weapon. “Now then, Jakie-boy, if I can open up the bonding chamber on this thing, it can work on polycarbide.”
Jake, bless him, asked all the right questions and they were soon on top of a plan to rescue Rose. The Doctor entertained no debate over Rose's rescue taking priority. First things first, he declared, before any planet saving or breech closing occurred, they would reunite the team. Mickey was down there, too, he reminded the alternative world soldiers. Surely, they meant to save Mickey? As he posed this question, the sputtering Pete subsided into silence.
Having shamelessly manipulated everyone onto his side, the Doctor sent them scurrying off on tasks.
“You, what’s your name?”
“Alonzo, sir, Alonzo Rodriguez.”
“Is it? Well, Alonzo, I'll need a few things for my next miracle, hope you don't mind stopping by the warehouses to pick up some supplies.” Snatching a post-it note from one of the nearest desktop organizers, he started scrawling a list. “Oh, and I'll need a sheet of A-4, blank, and some sort of pointer or baton or...stick.” When nobody stirred, he glanced up, lifting both brows at Pete. Gesturing one handed, the Doctor shooed him away. “Now! Go on. Paper. Stick.”
By the dark look on Pete's face, he wasn't used to being sent on errands. Tough, the Doctor thought, because this is my world and I mean to save it. All he needed was a little cooperation from the Cybermen. And the Daleks. And the void. And Rose and her mother. Okay, a bit of luck wouldn't hurt either.
He wondered how Rose was faring a few floors down. Reaching out with his mind, he could sense her fear and her anger. He longed to soothe her. But he couldn't afford to keep the connection open, any minute now the Daleks could discover their psychic link. He had no idea why they were keeping her alive but he would wager it had something to do with their Genesis Arc. And knowing how important Rose was to him wouldn’t do anything good for her lifespan. Rose had lots of unique qualities. She'd traveled in time and bonded with a Time Lord. Those two experiences had left her inundated with miscellaneous chemicals and radiant particles. She had also crossed the void, as had Mickey. But Rassilon help them all if the Daleks discovered just how unique Rose really was. He didn’t want to think about that power inside her breaking loose.
Coincidentally, he arrived to rescue her just as she was telling the Daleks all about it. Thanks to a bit of forward planning, he crouched, undetected, outside the Orb Room doors and patched into the local security cameras. He was amazed by the way every Dalek eyestalk had fixated on Rose. She held the group spellbound with her tale of falling Empires. As the Doctor worked on opening the door, he listened to her enthralling them.
“Don't you want to know what happened?” He heard her ask.
The Dalek stayed on topic, “Place your hand...”
“What happened to the Emperor,” Rose clarified.
“The Emperor survived?” Was that a note of hope in the metallic voice?
“Until he met me,” Rose said, silkily. “Cause if these are going to be my last words, then you're going to listen. I met the Emperor and I took the Time Vortex and I poured it into his head and turned him into dust.” The Doctor shivered, hearing a Wagnerian chorus in his own head as he sonically navigated his way through the final door lock. She was telling them the secret to ruling creation. All they needed was her.
“Do you get that,” she was saying as the door swished open. “God of all the Daleks.” She was nose to eye-stalk with the thing. “And I destroyed him. HA!” She crowed, and just for a second, the Doctor wondered if she really could have been as vengeful in her manipulation of the Vortex as any Time Lord.
Then, the Black Dalek snapped, “You will be exterminated.” And he decided it was past time to enter the fray.
“Now, hold on. Wait a minute.”
Daleks were physically incapable of starting in surprise, but these four gave a good approximation of it. The other Daleks, the ones who should have been on watch but had, instead, been distracted by Rose, suddenly went into alarm mode. “Alert! Alert!”
“You are the Doctor!”
Tell me something I don't know, he thought, sauntering in hands in pockets. He cast a vacantly sweet smile around the room, ending on his Rose. She beamed back at him, bouncing for joy, even though he'd done nothing to inspire it as yet. Chances were quite good they'd all be dead in a second.
“Sensors report he is unarmed,” one of the Daleks intoned.
“That's me, always,” he said.
“Then, you are powerless,” the black Dalek declared.
“Not me, never,” he told it, before whipping off his 3-D glasses and turning solicitously to greet his wife. “How are you?” he asked, putting as much adoration as he dared into the greeting.
Rose easily picked up on his mental signals. Dialing back her enthusiasm, she said, “Oh, same old. You know.”
What a helpmate she was, distracting the enemy and keeping a cool head when he came to rescue her. A lesser woman might have fainted or screamed or given in to hysterics, but not his Rose. Those same sensors that had just frisked him would have picked him up outside the door if she hadn't been occupying the troops with delightful bedtime stories. Of course, they would also pick up Jake's men circling closer, if he didn't keep them off guard. Time for his own floor show.
“Good,” he peeped, moving on before he gave in to his need for a hug. “And Mickity-Mick-Mickey, nice to see ya!”
Mickey returned his fist-to-fist greeting saying, “And you, boss.”
Boss? He liked that. He took a moment to admire the change three years of fighting had made in Mickey Smith. The boy had a sparse, well-trained figure now. And he'd been looking after Rose. Good. The Daleks tried to reassert their authority, but the Doctor kept them off balance with a line of patter similar to the one Rose had used. He reminded them that they'd lost the war, run away from it when he'd stood to fight.
“Doctor, they’ve got names,” Rose said.
Four Daleks with names, they could only be one group. “The cult of Skaro,” he exclaimed with a pleased smirk, “At last, I thought you were just a legend.”
He explained a bit about the Cult of Skaro, stalling for time to give Jake and his troops a chance to get into position, arm the explosives and take cover. The black Dalek threatened him, but he played the buffoon. As he stepped back, he drew out his sonic screwdriver. The Daleks recognized it, of course, labeling it a harmless probe. He corrected them to screwdriver but grudgingly acknowledged it was harmless.
“Doesn't kill. Doesn't wound. Doesn't maim. But I'll tell you what it does do. It is very good at opening doors,” he said and pressed the triggering sequence for the detonators.
There was a gratifying series of explosions. Doors flew from their hinges. A second later, gunfire erupted all around him. He hit the deck, pulling his young friends to the ground as he dropped. “Rose, get out” he shouted, pushing at her bottom, propelling her forward. The Cyberguns blasted over his head. Peeking around the Genesis Arc, he saw Rose scrambling toward the door. He rolled in the opposite direction and looked toward her again. Beyond her Pete was gesticulating. The Doctor drew fire away from them, dropping under another bolt of energy. Pete had Rose. Once she made it through the door, the Doctor found his feet and darted for safety. Mickey tarried to recover a gun.
As the Doctor reached the exit, Rose yelled, “Mickey, come on.”
“Fire power restored,” a Dalek declared.
Damn. He'd hoped his sonic pulse would scramble their wiring for a little longer than that, at least long enough to get everyone out of the room. He saw Mickey stumble and fall back into the Dalek's precious Arc. It seemed to burn his hand, he winced and jerked away from it. Time Lord science, the Doctor thought. But it still didn't look the least bit familiar to him. What the hell was it?
Mickey got through the doors and the Doctor sealed them.
“Jake, get to the stairwell,” he ordered as he herded his little family back toward the warehouses.
Despite a raid on the storerooms, he hadn't managed to recover the one piece of alien technology he really needed: Magna-clamps. On the other hand, he had managed to reunite Rose and her alterna-dad. And on the way to the large warehouse, the one that masqueraded as a parking garage, they ran into a pair of Cyberman about to finish off Jackie. Pete and his big gun disposed of the enemy with a quick blast and, for a few moments, all the chaos fade away leaving their small group alone at the eye of the storm.
When Pete and Jackie connected again, the Doctor couldn't help feeling elated. He couldn’t help comparing himself to Jackie as she told Pete there had never been anyone else. Mickey snorted, but the Doctor understood exactly what Jackie meant. If he lived another 900 years and took a dozen lovers, not one of them would ever replace Rose Marion Tyler. For him, too, there would never be anyone else.
He smiled on Jackie, feeling a sudden deeper kinship with her, and he chuckled when she couldn't let go of her curiosity about Pete's fortunes. And when Rose's parents finally rushed into each other's arms, the Doctor found himself grinning ear-to-ear. The jubilant rush of blood to his head was not only for Rose. It was because in some way Rose's family had become his family. What an odd pair we are, he thought, as Mickey gave him a quick high-five, like Fagin's orphans, considered part of the family. And if his plan worked, his new family would be somewhere safe. He glanced at Rose. Her hands were folded, as if in prayer, knuckles pressed to her lips. She stood very still, transfixed by the sight of her parents holding onto one another. Finally, the universe had done something right.
It was the last thing that went right for him for a very long time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He had a plan.
A very good plan.
A plan based on Time Lord Science, and on everyone cooperating.
Pete and Mickey would use their dimension-hopping discs to take Jackie and Rose to Pete's World. Once his family was secure, the Doctor would be free to deal with the Daleks. And their lesser Cyberfoes. He planned to open the breech to the void, sucking in every Dalek and Cyberman—sending them to Hell, as Mickey so succinctly put it. Of course, it would be tricky to do the job alone. He could very well end up sealed within the void himself. But Rose would be safe. Safe! Happy! With her mother. No, better than that; she would be with both of her parents. And Mickey. On a world that had never even heard of the Daleks.
It was a good plan.
Except the Tyler women were as cooperative as cats in harness. And the plan required him to be in two places at the same time. He'd need to be on opposite sides of the white room to operate the levers. This meant he would have to cross the room against the current created by the opened void. Also, it meant the Daleks would be alerted to his plan before he was ready to implement it. The breech would be active, but completely unstable. The Daleks would surely enter firing their weapons as they fought to escape the pull of the void. He'd probably be exterminated long before he could cross the room. It would be very rough going, even given his intention to hold fast to one magna-clamp while repositioning the other. Tricky, but doable.
He watched Rose's face as he explained how it would all work. He'd expected their goodbye to be painful. He'd expected the sharp pang at the center of his chest when her expression changed to one of hurt confusion. But, as the full impact of his words dawned on her, she looked so vulnerable; he’d had to move away from her to keep from losing his courage.
He took refuge, as he often did, in being very busy. Bouncing about, he braced himself for her arguments.
He'd expected her to plead with him.
He hadn't expected open defiance. Though, he probably should have.
“I'm supposed to go?” Rose asked her tone deceptively calm, a counterpoint to his deceptive frenzy.
“Yeah,” he said, dropping a magnaclamp, hoping the noise would cover any tremor in his voice.
“To another world, and then it gets sealed off?”
“Yeah,” he said again, trying for devil-may-care but managing only colorless and breathy. His gaze slipped to the side, avoiding hers. He couldn't bear to look at her for long, if he did he'd simply go to her, hold on and never let go.
“Forever?” she asked.
His throat closed and he couldn't even manage one syllable agreement. Punching numbers into the computer, he remained stoically focused, but silent. What was there to say? She simply couldn't go forever. That wasn't possible, was it? What would he do without her?
As if she also understood this, Rose snorted through a bemused smile and said exactly what he was thinking, “That's not going to happen.”
Yes! His soul declared triumphantly. It couldn't happen, could it? That was why this was such a good plan. When he'd come up with it, a very small, childish part of him told him it was all quite silly and that Rose would never let it happen. Even as his mind and body went through the motions of setting up computers, that small part of him refused to believe he was going through with this. Rose was eternal, his life mate. She would always come back to him. He believed in her. The universe simply wouldn't, couldn't separate them, not when he'd already lost so much.
He glanced at the two magnaclamps as Rose argued with her mother. If she stayed, Rose could help him with the plan. It would work much better with two. But, now, Jackie was refusing to leave as well. And any second, the Daleks would notice the wave fluctuations in this room and know what he was doing. He steeled his resolve and eased the yellow disc from his pocket. Pete had also taken a disc out. Stepping closer to Rose, and, with a nod to Pete, he put the dimensional transporter over her head. Pete hit the button and Rose was gone.
Only she wasn't, he could still feel her in the room, just on the other side of the wall. Until the breech closed, she would be right there. Almost beside him...almost...
“I think this is the on switch,” Rose said, brightly, as she popped back into his universe.
He wanted to scream, in joy and desperation. A heady cocktail of endorphins hit his blood stream, triggering a score of conflicting and aggressive emotions. At any other time, this sort of response would have cascaded into sexual display and release. Elated, he wanted to hug her. Frustrated, he wanted shake her. He wanted to make love to her, while scolding her. Before he could process more than one or tow of his many impulses, he pounced, seizing her arms.
“Once the bridge collapses, that's it! You will never be able to see her again, your own mother.”
It was his trump card and he played it knowing he had to let her go. Rose flinched slightly, but her jaw set in a firm line and her gaze met his squarely. “I made my choice a long time ago,” she told him, softly assured, “And I'm never going to leave you.”
Well, what the hell could he say to that? It was how he felt as well. He would never leave her. There was a certain finality to it. They would stand or fall together. Somehow, he'd let himself imagine she could recover from losing him, be happy without him. But she'd been telling him all along she couldn't. For years now, she'd been telling him. He could see her upper lip trembling. Tell her now, he thought, tell her it's the same for you. Tell her you only sent her away because you can't bear to have her die here.
And then what? He asked himself, panicking over it. What could he do? Take her away from all this, fly far away and let her planet burn? No! He couldn't do that. He was a Time Lord. The last of the Time Lords. So, when Rose asked him what she could do to help, he forced himself to release her. Passion still seethed in his vein, but they had a job to do. His voice grated harshly as he stabbed a finger at the far computers and told her how to set all coordinates to six.
“And hurry up,” he snarled, inwardly reprimanding himself for wanting to take a moment to kiss her breathless.
She went obediently to work. He almost smiled at the diffident glance she shot him as she removed the disc from her neck and set it aside. If only she were this tractable when it mattered to one of his plans.
“We've got Cybermen on the way up,” she said, as her security equipment beeped.
His monitor had malfunctioned. He popped across the room to her side to verify the bad news. As he peered over her shoulder, his hand found its natural home at her waist. There was a bit of bared skin there, just enough to sooth his jangling nerves. He stroked her and his blood and brain spoke her name, Rose. I’m here, she said in his mind. And, despite the chilling sight of the Cybermen, he felt comforted.
She’d been quite right about one thing: the universe kept trying to separate them, but it never, ever would. On the other hand, it might decide to kill them both together. The thought sent him dashing away with an inner oath. There was an improbable burst of weapons fire outside the door. Someone was still resisting, some remnant of Torchwood. His curiosity prodded him, but there was no time to investigate. Skidding to a halt at his computer terminal, he entered the necessary codes to activate the levers and waited for what seemed like an eternity but was, in all probability, less than a second. He beamed when the computerized voice informed him the levers were online.
“That's more like it,” Rose said, grinning. “Bit of a smile. The old team?”
He agreed. They were like any classic duo. “Hope and Glory. Mutt and Jeff. Shiver and Shake.”
“Which one's Shiver?” she asked, pulling a face.
He thrust a magnaclamp into her arms and said, “Oh, I'm Shake.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a hole in the world, a howling abyss, the stuff of nightmares. He'd dreamed about it. For months on end, it had pursued him across time and space, a relentless prediction of hollow days and nights ahead. Understanding how important it was and how dangerous, he’d done everything in his power to avoid it.
Yet, in the end, it was his hand that brought it into being. “The breech is open! Ha! Into the abyss!”
His hand had destroyed his world. Filled with hubris, he'd entered those fatal calculations. And once again, the universe had laughed in his face. It had opened a maw that threatened to swallow him whole. And again, he screamed. Hands fisted around cold metal, he screamed his throat raw. Every cell in his body denied what his senses mercilessly reported. Rose had let go of her anchor. Faced with inevitable extermination, should the system fail, she'd chosen to fight, but she was losing the battle.
The valiant child, who will die in battle so very, very soon.
Any second now, she would die. The pull of the void was too strong. Her shoulders would dislocate and she'd be cast into hell. He saw her grip on the lever slip. The dimensional currents were tearing her in two, distorting her body. She couldn't possibly win out against such an unrelenting force.
“Rose,” he yelled. “Hold on.”
She sought his eye, held onto him as much as to the lever. One by one, the void pried her fingers free. He was losing her, losing Rose to the white room. Worms crawled around in his brain, leaving sticky tendrils of insanity in their wake. He reached for her, straining to take her hand, knowing they were too far apart. She fell and, as she did, one thing became quite clear to him: he'd never left the asylum. This was part of his madness, the cold spittle on his lips, the raw heat of his straining throat, this child he loved, her screaming and his, the howling nothingness, the loss. Everything would burn again. He would see to it that everything burned.
This time nothing would survive. He'd crack this universe like an egg and scramble it. Let them all learn what it meant to deny him...defy him. No second chances.
Only there was one, a second chance. Pete caught her. Pete, bless him and keep him, took a second stab at becoming a family man. He popped into being and caught Rose a scant meter from the void. She threw one glance over her shoulder at the Doctor, one pleading glance, and then she was gone.
“Systems closed,” the computer informed in a cool and emotionless manner.
It took a moment for him to register what he’d seen. It was over. He panted like a trapped animal, his hearts pounding, as he stared into the void in his mind, the empty place where Rose should be. He couldn't process the wall for a few seconds. Didn't realize the breech had closed, even though he'd been severed in two by it. But the rushing in his ears slowly faded and the tension in his body bled away, leaving him limp and exhausted. Rose had survived. He could hear her wailing through the minute fissures still connecting their two dimensions. She wasn't in Hell. She was safe, with her family.
And, oh, yes, it hurt. It hurt so very much to be empty again. But he could wrap her around his pain. She was alive. Alive! This pain was nothing to what it might have been. He would gladly endure more; suffer anything, as long it kept Rose from the void. He'd been prepared, after all, to let her go.
But Rose? Rose wasn't prepared. Her keening despair drew him to the wall. He touched her through it, pressed his cheek to the cool, white surface and imagined her just beyond it, beyond his reach. He gave much as he could give to her. He felt her respond, mirror him. But it was hopeless. They couldn't stand there forever, no matter how much they might comfort one another. Eventually, the fissures would seal and they would have nothing but memories. He had to let her go, give her a chance at a normal life. Steeling himself, he eased his hand away, stepped back and turned to leave.
His leaden steps took him to the elevators, and then out into the street. He couldn't go back to the TARDIS, not yet. She would ask him about Rose. He walked, instead, toward the Powell Estates. Burning cars and fallen bodies gave mute testament to the extent of the battle that he'd halted. Sirens sounded all over the city. Survivors clung to one another, weeping and laughing. He felt numbly connected to them, but could neither laugh nor cry. No one approached him. He passed like a phantom through the city he'd just saved.
Climbing the last set of stairs to the Tyler apartment, his hand closed around Rose's key and a new measure of pain assaulted him. It seemed to knock him out of his body. He couldn't feel the steps beneath his feet. The world faded, for a moment, into a sickly gray fog. The sound of alarms and shouting receded as he reached out to Rose with all of his longing. Stretched thin mentally, he searched for some answering spark from her. “Rose,” he called. “Rose?” And far away, like a whisper on the wind, he heard her. She was alive, safe. The effort left him weak and staggering and he nearly plummeted down the stairwell before he managed to make it into the apartment.
He didn't need his key. Someone, Cybermen or looters, had kicked in the door. It hung from one hinge and creaked horribly when he pushed through it. The television was gone and a few other items. The lights didn't work. Overall, the place looked ransacked and felt abandoned. But he was beyond caring. He needed to rest, to recover, and to do that he needed to feel close to Rose. Making his way to her room, he collapsed on her bed. Only there, surrounded by her scent and her things, did he process the extent of his loss. He retched, bile burning the back of his tongue. But he could not weep, could not wail out loud. His pain went far too deep. Fingers clawing at the bedspread, he drew his knees up, curling into a fetal ball around his hollow center. Nothing, there was nothing inside of him. No tears. No rage. No hope.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hello? Is anyone here? Mrs. Tyler?” a familiar voice sang out hours later. “I've just come to check on you. I hope you don't mind. Hello?”
Another voice cut across the first, this one a stranger, male and Pakistani, “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“Oh, you startled me. Hello, my name is Sarah Jane Smith,” the first voice answered. “I'm a friend of the Tyler family.”
“They are gone. And we have had enough looters.”
Sarah Jane laughed. “Do I look like a looter? Wait a moment,” there was a brief pause, “My identification. I'm a journalist.”
“From the BBC?”
“Freelance Investigative,” Sarah said, brusquely. “Were you here when this happened? Did the Cybermen do this? Kick the door in?”
“The what?”
“The metal men? The armored soldier?”
“I do not know. We were away. I work in a shop. Bell's Ready Wear? I stock. My wife, she works at Tesco. People say there were many looters just after. They stole my stereo CD player. And our son's video games. And my mother's wedding photo. Who would steal a wedding photo?”
“I'm sorry. Here, take my card. If you hear from the Tyler's call me. If I have any questions, I'll come see you. Which apartment?”
“525,” he said. “Just down there. Do you want me to stay here with you?” He didn't sound enthusiastic about the prospect.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Sarah Jane said, dismissively. “I can wave at you on my way out, if you like.”
“Ah, you seem like a nice lady. Just be careful.”
“I will, thank you,” Sarah said, brightly adding, “Bye-bye!”
The departing man's tread was heavy on the stairs. He must have weighed sixteen stone. The Doctor listened to him thunder down two flights, before Sarah Jane closed the creaking door. Her light, cautious step led her directly to Rose's room. She gasped when she saw him and flurried across to the bedside.
“Doctor?” she said, crouching down before him. “Doctor? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?”
Yes, he certainly was hurt. Heartsick. Lost. He could hear her, too, but he didn't feel the need to tell her so. He stared straight through her, unresponsive, even when she waved her hand in front of his eyes.
“Oh, God,” she said, settling to her knees. “It's Rose, isn't it?” He saw her glance toward the damaged front door. “Did they take her...the Cybermen?” Looking at him again, she gave a tiny impatient snort and, grasping his shoulder, shook him. “Doctor? Answer me! Is she dead?”
“Gone,” he managed to croak.
“Gone? Where?”
It took a great deal of effort but he focused on her briefly and said, “Far away.”
“What does that mean? How far? Why are you just…lying here like a lump?” When he failed to answer her, she grumbled, “Fine, let's get you sorted out, first, and then we'll figure out what to do.” He didn't know what she meant by 'sorted out', but he soon learned.
Standing, Sarah Jane dusted off the front of her jeans as she gave the situation some thought. He could see her quite clearly, despite the advancing twilight. The hall light had come on sometime ago, when electricity was restored to the area. The dim glow was all he needed. It hadn't bothered him. Sarah Jane, however, set out to bother him.
The first thing she did was switch on the bedside lamp, shining it straight into his face. He winced, shielding his eyes against the glare. Then, crossing the room, she hit the overhead light as well, flooding his dark cocoon of grief with dazzling brightness. He stifled a whimper and curled into a tighter ball, determined to remain unmoved by her efforts to stir him. A moment later he thought he'd succeeded in intimidating her as she bustled out of the room and proceeded to bang about in the kitchen.
Any hope he had that she would leave was dashed, however, by the sound of the kettle whistling. She was making tea. Tannins to stimulate his synapses, clever girl. He wouldn't drink it, of course, but the smell alone would kick some life back into him. It would inspire animation he didn't want. He wanted his synapses to hibernate. He wanted to fade away, maybe die, maybe regenerate. He didn’t want to confront his loss, not yet, maybe not ever. If Sarah Jane hoped to rouse him from his self-imposed exile, she'd have to do better than a nice cuppa.
Unfortunately, she knew that. “Let’s see if this makes an impression,” she said, just as he was settling into his mindless gray haze again.
He heard the click of her quick tread approaching, but was completely unprepared when something soft and fluttery hit him in the face. He inhaled reflexively and his brain came alive. His eyes popped open. Trillions of synapses fired. His cnidocysts bristled and he lit up inside like Time Square on New Year's Eve. Rose. Her scent pervaded the blue fabric veiling his eyes. He instinctively reached for her again, probing the wound. As he strained the limits of his telepathic connection to her, his fingers clutched at the silken material, dragging it away from his face. Holding it up, he saw it was her blue and purple shirt. The one she'd worn on their visit to New Earth. He drew another breath, hoping to clear the perfume of Rose from his head, but it was too late to undo what had been done.
“You can find her with that, can't you?” Sarah Jane challenged him. “There's some kind of connection to the clothes we wear. You can use to trace her. I’ve seen you do it, link up your mind to someone and follow them like a bloodhound.”
She was right. And yet, she had no idea what she had unleashed. Rose was here. Almost, here. His true companion. The air had thickened around him. It was full of charged particles, every one of them reminding him of his loss and his need for comfort. Anguish and ardor combined into a maelstrom of primitive impulse. He sat up in the bed, searching for Rose. He needed to be complete. When his predatory gaze settled on Sarah Jane, he saw her only as a means to that end.
His biology demanded certain behaviors. Once he'd found a true companion, he was supposed to breed, to keep at it until he succeeded in reproducing. If he lost his mate, he was programmed to die, to just give up, unless he could find another female to produce his offspring. He eyed Sarah Jane. Even if this one proved too old to breed, she could alleviate his despair, at least for an hour or two. He would be able to think clearly again. Taking her would give him some relief from this relentless clamoring for Rose. It wasn't unprecidented. He thought of Omega, who had used human surrogates when his true companion refused him. Would it be so bad to give Sarah Jane what she'd always wanted? Once she was drugged and he'd entered her mind, he could even be the image of his former self for her, all teeth and curls.
He was tensed to pounce when she said, “Or are you just going to abandon Rose, too?”
The question splashed cold water in the face of his animal self. He remembered who he was and what he had done all those years ago. He had abandoned Sarah Jane. She'd loved him and he'd left her before things could get too far out of hand. He’d been a Time Lord, then. And he was a Time Lord, still. He belonged to Rose, but he would not be ruled by his libido. He would not diminish his love by using Sarah Jane to satisfy some biological urge. It wouldn't make anything better for her or him. It would only complicate an already impossible situation. These weren't primitive time and he wasn't Omega. Sarah Jane was his friend. He adored her.
But as she reached for him he ducked away from her. “I...need a minute,” he grated through clenched teeth. “Alone.”
“I'm not leaving this room until I get some answers,” she told him. “Rose is my friend.”
Narrowing his eyes, he snarled, “Rose is everything.”
“Yes, I can see that,” she admitted, edging to the side, instinctively avoiding easy capture. Somehow, she must have sensed the danger she was in. “Doctor? Are you ill?”
“I’m…” he took a steadying breath and forced himself to relax, forced his bristling arousal to subside. “I’m fine.”
“You look half-mad to me.”
He wanted to rage at her. He wanted to shout, “She’s gone!” Gone—the word hammered against the inside of his skull. He clutched at his temples with both hands, fingers fisting around tufts of his hair. No matter what, he couldn't allow himself to slip back into raving instablity.
“I lost her,” he said, hollowly. “And I could shatter this world.” His intense, wild-eyed stare lifted and intersected Sarah Jane’s steady one. “Do you understand that?”
She did understand. He could see the fear welling up in her. But she swallowed and raised her chin a little. “Yes, I suppose you could. But I don't think you will.”
“Be sure.” He needed her to convince him.
“All right," she said, exhaling. "You're not just any Time Lord. Even if you have the power to destroy us, you're not like the Master or the rest. And whatever has happened to her, whatever is happening to you, this is still your home away from home. The Earth and Rose are still part of you. She wouldn't want you to give up, to stop being the Doctor. Wherever she is, right now, the thought of you keeps her fighting. I know...because...” She broke off, staring beyond him. “She loves you.”
Let me back. Let me back.
He remembered how desperate Rose sounded in the white room, how she seemed to be pounding on the walls of reality. Sarah Jane was right. Rose would keep fighting. She'd never give up on him, never live the life he wanted her to have. And it was just possible that she, too, could shatter worlds. He had to warn her not to try. And he had to say everything he'd put off saying. I love you. I'll miss you. I'm okay. Goodbye. He couldn't let Rose go without giving her closure. Humans could remain loyal forever, he'd learned this through Sarah Jane.
There was so much he should have told her, too. Seeing her with fresh eyes, he said, “I'm so sorry. I should have told you what you wanted was impossible. I should have said a proper goodbye.”
“You got to it, eventually,” she said, shrugging as if it didn't matter to her anymore, but he knew by the glistening of tears in her eyes that it did.
He smiled, a sad smile that didn't warm either of them. Then, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “The fissures are closing, sealing her away,” he said, seeing the last few gaps on the far side of the galaxy. “There isn't much time.” Springing suddenly to action, he snatched Rose's shirt from the bed, and then whirled about to face Sarah Jane. “Thank you,” he said, thrusting out his hand before changing his mind and leaning in to place a quick kiss on her cheek. “You're my best friend, Sarah Jane.”
“K-9 will be very disappointed if he hears.”
“He will, yes. So we won't tell him. I have to go, now,” he said, backing toward the door. “There's still a chance I can reach her if I hurry. And," he hesitated slightly, "I'm not sure if I'll see you again.”
“Same old story,” Sarah Jane said with a smile. “Give Rose my love, when you find her.”
He already had reached the hallway, but her words turned him around again. “She's not coming back,” he said, his voice cloudy with anguish. “But she can have a good life, a normal life, if I let her know this is goodbye.”
“Can she?” Sarah Jane wondered, but he didn't stay to debate it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was harder getting into the Torchwood Institute than it had been wandering out, but he managed to convince the armed guards that he was the one and only Doctor and had come to help. Their bureaucracy was in chaos, but there was enough infrastructure left to assure he was recognized. He presented himself with an absolute authority and told them he needed his equipment to deal with this crisis. After a bit of questioning, they led him to the TARDIS and he simply popped inside and faded out of their lives.
Navigating proved problematic at first. The TARDIS responded sluggishly to his interface commands. He patted her, stroked her, but nothing seemed to improve her performance. She seemed...he supposed the word was inattentive, less aware of him somehow. It crossed his mind to wonder if she was in shock, maybe missing Rose, too. After all, she'd been closer to Rose than to any other companion save Susan.
“Steady on, old girl,” he soothed, paging through star charts on the monitor. “It'll be just you and me again for a bit, but we'll get by...same old life.”
He adjusted the Meliman Spectrograph, searching the heavens for a likely star. It would take an obscene amount of energy to project his image across the void. He'd have to burn up a sun just to say goodbye. But it would be worth it if Rose could find a measure of happiness without him.
END THIS PART
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 07:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 05:19 pm (UTC)Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 08:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 05:35 pm (UTC)As for his considering using Sarah Jane to alleviate some of his agony...I put that down to circumstance. It did come out of left field and one of my beta babes was shaken by it. Frankly, it surprised me with the poignancy of his need...but I hope I didn't get too graphic. He would never do something like that to Sarah...or anyone else. It was just the sudden influx of Rose scent and vibrations combined with his sense of loss.
Thank you so much for you kind words. I really appreciate your continued readership and the thoughtfulness of your comments.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 08:19 am (UTC)Wow! High praise indeed!
Date: 2007-12-21 08:14 pm (UTC)But it is very gratifying to know that I've managed to convey a true sense of them for my readers. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me. I appreciate your kindness.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 08:37 am (UTC)*hangs on thread* How long till the next one???
I just watched AoG and Doomsday the other day with a friend of mine... its still heartbreaking... this captured it beautifully.
*sniff*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 08:17 pm (UTC)Still, those of you who can't wait...should have a present under your LJ-virtual tree.
Thanks for the comment. As always it makes my day to know you are out there reading and enjoying.
Rae
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 08:46 am (UTC)Absolutely gorgeous writing. It's much too late for me to formulate more of a review than that. Just simply gorgeous...and heartbreaking, can't forget heartbreaking.
I do want to say though that I was immensly pleased to see Sarah Jane. I often wondered about the Doctor's state of mind immediatley after The Wall, and I can see him as you described, ready to just give up, fade away to nothing...fade into insanity. But Sarah Jane was there to kick him in the arse and good on her.
I hope the next bit is coming soon and that it leads us to a happy ending. I can't believe there are only 2 chapters left.
Ok, off to bed. Hope you have a lovely night.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 02:47 am (UTC)As for Sarah Jane...yes, I figured if anyone was going to get him moving again it would be her. And I wanted to convey that complete sense of emptiness that David illustrates so beautifully as he walks away from the wall. He's simply gutted there. And I could see him not wanting to go back to their home, the TARDIS.
I am working very hard to get the next bit out to you very soon. Luckily, most of it is done...I just have to stitch the bits together...and clean it all up...and we should be ready to go. Hope you have a happy holiday...and get a chance to read the next chapter, too.
Thanks for taking the time, despite your tired head, to leave me such lovely comments. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 09:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 02:43 am (UTC)Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 09:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 02:35 am (UTC)So, don't give up hope...I will be looking for your comments once it is all posted.
Rae
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 12:42 pm (UTC)This was so amazing, because I didn't expect you to follow through on Doomsday. I thought you'd figure out a way for the Doctor not to lose Rose--and realizing that no, he lost her, and how they're a part of one another now . . . [sniff] Absolutely gutting.
Amazing work in this chapter--you took the events of Doomsday and made them even more tragic. I know you'll fix it, but now I understand why you wanted to get Chapter 24 to us quickly. I totally take back what I said before--I need the next chapter as soon as possible. It'd be a lovely Christmas gift . . .
You thought I would duck out on Doomsday?
Date: 2007-12-22 02:41 am (UTC)As for avoiding the whole idea of Doomsday...and giving us a happy...I don't think that would be playing fair. I had to deal with the season as it stood. And I think I have set this all up so my resolution will work for my readers. I hope it does. My beta babes have been brought into the loop and seem pleased with the final solution I offer. It's been foreshadowed forever...so...it fits the story.
And now...if I can focus my energy the next couple of days...Chapter 24 will be ready for Christmas. I did find myself tempted to make this go 26 chapters...I will see if I can control the temptation.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 01:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 02:32 am (UTC)Thanks for all the help you gave me. Hope that the Sarah Jane part worked for you like this. As you can see...hysterical lines deleted in favor of more internal turmoil.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 02:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 10:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 02:55 pm (UTC)Brilliantly written. You seriously need to write some sort of book that I can buy.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 02:30 am (UTC)Thanks so much for the lovely compliment about my writing. I really appreciate your continued patronage of this fic.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 04:24 pm (UTC)Brilliant stuff.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 02:29 am (UTC)Sorry for the pain. And thanks for the vote of "brilliant"...I really appreciate the comment. It means a lot that you are still reading and entertained.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 06:41 pm (UTC)This is Doomsday all over again... You evil writer!!!!
Bouhouhouuuuuu!!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 08:19 pm (UTC)Happy Holidays, Sunny! I should make this all better for you by Chapter 25. At least, as I say...I hope everyone finds it a happy ending. I know I do.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 08:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 12:59 am (UTC)And I should warn you...I just burst into tears writing something in Chapter 24. I think we all are just completely attached to this couple.
Thanks for the feedback.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 08:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 12:55 am (UTC)Some things are just works of art and I wouldn't dream of penciling in my bit. But I'm glad you liked what I've scribbled here. Thanks for the feedback.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 08:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 12:52 am (UTC)Thanks for struggling to leave me feedback. I appreciate your tenacity in battling LJ.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 10:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 12:49 am (UTC)Sorry, if I killed you. But happy you found it brilliant, too.
Thanks for leaving feedback.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-21 11:46 pm (UTC)I liked the Sarah Jane scene ,the struggle of him fighting his biology,and how very different his alien body differs from Humans.I loved the way you described the scene when he could sense Rose from her Top .I can't wait to read more :D
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 12:57 am (UTC)Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 01:46 am (UTC)I especially enjoyed the Doctor's POV on the scene where Rose confronts the Daleks. It added to a scene I already enjoy.
After Rose is gone, he reflects on perhaps Rose could shatter her universe. Were you trying to justify his comment on the beach where he says, "You can't." In the context of your story, those are peculiar words since he's not sure of what all she can do. But it would make sense to steer her away from doing anything rash.
I have more to say, but I have plans tonight. I'll respond about the great parts with Sarah Jane later. Just want to add the tidbit I wrote first.
It is evil of me to kinda want to see the fallout of Doctor pouncing on Sarah Jane? I don't really want it in Disheveled, but as a what if story in the context of Disheveled. Angst on top angst!
I was indeed trying to justify those comments
Date: 2007-12-22 02:28 am (UTC)I hope you have a good night...I look forward to hearing your take on Sarah Jane. And, so you know, it IS evil of you to want that...one of my betas warned me that I need to be VERY careful in how I handled that scene...because it disturbed her. Of course, another beta had sort of suggested the idea...and someone, maybe it was you...had asked if he might pounce on Jackie, of all people, by accident. So, I must say you are not alone in wanting it to go further.
But my purpose here would have been defeated if it had...because the Doctor is always the Doctor...honorable and true.
Thanks for the feedback.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 04:03 am (UTC)but all is good b/c i had time to scroll my FList. yay! an update!
*sob* Doomsday. well done and LOVE Sarah Jane being able to snap him out it. you painted his pain and suffering very well. still doesn't make Doomsday any easier to take. ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 01:16 pm (UTC)I hope that RTD makes it all easier to take. I really hope he give us the storyline he's been foreshadowing...and the Doctor and Rose get their "forever" for her lifetime, at least.
But, back to me...:snicker:...I am glad you loved Sarah Jane. I needed to have someone who cared about him snap him out of the sort of complete funk he is in as he walks away from the wall. He doesn't look like he means to go "burn up a sun" there...he just looks gutted and lost. So, I imagined him wandering the streets until he came to Jackie Tyler's apartment...and finding the shirt there...and having his idea. But then, I thought, no...let someone else have the idea.
Anyway, thanks for the feedback. If you are having a holiday weekend of somekind...I hope you enjoy the festivities.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 05:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 01:17 pm (UTC):grin:
Thanks for the "amazing"...I'm very happy you are still enjoying the fic.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 06:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 01:20 pm (UTC)Thanks for taking the time to share your thoughts on the chapter with me. I really appreciate it.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 06:10 am (UTC)After reading the comments, you've got me worried about Chapter 24. This time I can blame the puffy eyes and use of tissues on my cold, but I won't be so fortunate next time. But I'm pleased to see you've got a probable happy ending lined up.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 01:30 pm (UTC)Fingers crossed, anyway! :-D
Meanwhile, does it make me a bad person if I'm happy you are all stuffy-headed? I really was intimidated going into this chapter because I was going to have to borrow heavily from RTD, even the dialog...and because there really isn't much to add to Doomsday...it's so heartwrenching already. But, I thought that I could illuminate the Doctor's inner turmoil over letting Rose go...because it constantly amazed me that people thought he wasn't completely shattered by it.
I am rather insulted on David Tennant's behalf by the people who think the Doctor was "happy to be rid of Rose." Because, come on...there is spit on his lower lip as he screams her name when she's falling...and his eyes are so wildly insane...and his breathing...and then...the way he is at the wall...this is a man who is devastated, but not as badly shreaded as he would have been if she'd fallen into the void.
Whenever I watch Doomsday...I think about the Doctor looking at Rose in a room with the Daleks (when he growls, "Phone!" at Jackie...you can see he is losing it)...and then sitting there, helplessly, after Jackie has been taken away and the Cybermen have control of the Earth. I am not surprised at all that he thought..."Rose would be better off away from me. This is never going to end." I feel he wanted to protect her. And he thought she really would be heartbroken if she lost her mother. He had time to think that over sitting there...about how much Rose would be devastated by Jackie's loss.
Then, when Rose comes back to him...and he's angry...I think that's because he realizes he is going to have to face losing her, because she won't let him save her. But when she falls...you can readily see that losing her to the void was more than his mind could take. I, honestly believe if Rose had fallen into Hell, the Doctor would have destroyed the universe to get her back.
Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-22 06:08 pm (UTC)But on this chapter you did such a beautiful job of capturing what was going on and what the Doctor was going through. Your characterizations are perfect - simply perfect. And I was so happy to see Sarah Jane appear and help him get a move on things.
Oh! btw where did your icon come from? cause i've been re-remembering episodes and I don't remember that image - plus it is adorable!
Can't wait for the next chapter and I hope you enjoy the Christmas Special!
My apologies for the downer chapter
Date: 2007-12-22 08:04 pm (UTC)Anyway, I'm happy I can add your name to the people who liked Sarah Jane in this. And I am happy you find my characters in character...sometimes, as my betas will tell you, I run a little over the top and must be reined in...but mostly I think the voices in my head are in tune.
As to my icon...it's from the deleted scene from Army of Ghosts...and, speaking of my psychic connection to RTD...that scene was so amazing to me...as I literally said they held hands after exiting the TARDIS...and was amazed to learn that it had been filmed.
And, in case you are wondering what I'm on about...the Doctor and Rose held hands and were just so in love on the way to see her mother in Army of Ghosts...find the scene in this compilation of deleted scenes...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFS5RrrVsVQ
Or on your S2 DVD set.
Rae
thanking you again for your kind review of my chapter.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-12-23 12:01 am (UTC)Good old Sarah Jane. It had to hurt somewhere inside when the Doctor basically told Sarah Jane that he loves Rose. As if his state didn't clearly communicate that when she talked him off the edge. Though, he did say the right things to Sarah Jane in the end. Things he should have said long ago. I don't think he would have thought to say them without his experience with Rose. I wonder if he'll ever give her some explanation why it was impossible then, but not with Rose. Just pondering here. Maybe there's no call to.
I notice you bring up the Master a lot in this. Just trying to incorporate S3 or will he show up again?
As far as the Master goes...
Date: 2007-12-23 02:24 am (UTC)In the original draft of this chapter...the Doctor told Sarah Jane that he loved Rose...he sort of had a miniture meltdown...and lots of stuff spilled out of him, but I was overuled on that by a couple of my beta babes and, since I was already feeling that Ten might not share that much...I decided to go with better minds and present things in this way. There was also more of a rape situation in the first drafts but I didn't like that...I couldn't see it happening even with his biology on the fritz...so that part got toned down even more in the final version.
My feeling about the Doctor wanting to be overuled is that, as you say, he's a Time Lord first. Whenever I am psychoanalyzing him...I tend to go...Time Lord...Alien...Male...and so I work everything through the filters of who he is. People talk about him being commitophobic...and I can see that if we consider how he runs from being President of Gallifrey in Old School...and how he ran originally from the restrictions of his people...but there is also the very real "curse of the Time Lords" he talks about...that he will be abandoned...and the idea of him running away from the Vortex.
I mean...how great is that of RTD to write that the Master went mad looking into the Vortex...and the Doctor ran away...but Rose...Rose was inspired to do marvelous things? Small wonder he loves her, knowing what she is capable of at heart.
Thanks for the feedback...is it good to be in the know? Or does it just give you more questions? :->
Rae
hoping you are having a happy holiday season and feeling better and better each day.
(no subject)
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