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rabid1stIDLE & BLESSED
by Rabid1st
Doctor Who
Ten/Rose
AU from “The End of Time”
Rating: Mature Eventually
Beta: Keswindhover
Warning: This is not a Ten2 story. He is gone, but, not forgotten, exactly. Basically, in my world, Ten2 was a vessel, created by the TARDIS, to store the Tenth Regeneration of the Doctor. A fleshy pocket watch, if you will, for those who have seen Human Nature or Utopia.
Summary: The Tenth Doctor has been archived into a biometrically identical vessel with a human heart and other human parts. He's worked out everything but the impossible bits, but he hasn't quite figured out how to empathize or deal with his human body reacting outside his conscious control.
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”
~The Summer Day by Mary Oliver
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
As Rose slumped forward into a partial faint, his body, this bloody useless marionette he'd been battling all day, sprang into action. It caught her smoothly, effortlessly, in sync with the speed of his thoughts. Well, not quite that quickly, but far faster than he would have imagined possible a moment earlier. He checked Rose's fall neatly, before she could so much as skin a knee. She sagged against him, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to stay conscious. His nose dipped into the curve of her neck and hair spilled against his face, arresting his attention. No acrid odors. She smelled scrumptious, easily the most tantalizing molecules he'd ever inhaled. And, this seemed crucial, nothing like she'd smelled earlier in the day. Rose had a musk, now. She'd been sweating, of course. Fragrant notes of sunlight and spice and salt graced her skin. And her hair was redolent with the smoky intoxicants from the streets. She smelled better than those skewers of meat Jackie had procured from the Judoon vendor. And those had been perfect.
He'd had no idea human body odors could be pleasant, never mind truly appealing, to the human nose. They certainly made an elaborate fuss about them. Perhaps his hybrid nose had some advantages. He had no point of reference to compare. The TARDIS neutralized fragrances as a matter of necessity. Toxin-coated humans endangered the health and wellbeing of other species they encountered. It had been his policy to set the automatic systems so that any stray particles in the air were zapped by the TARDIS purification protocols. He, also, insisted on supplying zero-scent cosmetics for everyone on board to erase their natural stink. This wasn't solely for his benefit. Some species were particularly sensitive to pheromones. Just careless, really, to offer more information than necessary to strangers.
During their traveling days, Rose, up close, had emitted a decidedly astringent odor, not unpleasant to his Time Lord nose. Though, ape-scented, like all humans, her hair carried a few bitter notes from peroxide infusion, and a whiff of the London rush hour. But, he'd tolerated her odor well enough in the clinch. Truly, had she'd reeked liked beached fulkapafish, the soothing nature of her hugs would have compensated for any olfactory discomfort. He'd set aside most of his squeamishness when it came to cuddling Rose. His habit of jerking and squirming, for example. His proximity sensors made him edgy in the embrace of others. The closer he came to another being the more he could sense of their past and future, but hugging Rose ordered his universe. Together, they bent space and time. The temporal eddies that had always swirled around him became tranquil pools when Rose took him in her arms.
She made him better. He'd told her many times. Better, with its connotations of healing and renewal was the perfect word. All those things to see and do, in all the universe and he just kept running and running, from one to another. He'd run, but never toward anything in particular, never toward anyone, but her. He'd run toward her, and then he'd tried to run away. And, look what that had cost them. Rose was paying a high price for his cowardice. And he'd been rude, all day, blaming her for the meta-crisis, for the archiving. Even if her Bad Wolf persona had manipulated events, it wasn't Rose's choices that led to this situation. His choices were at fault. He never should have left her behind. He should have cracked the universe open, the first time he'd lost her.
He found it hard to let go as he settled her on the edge of the bed. It felt right to sit with his arms around her. If only they could just lie down together. He wanted to taste her, rub his cheek along hers, transferring that delicious scent to his own skin, as if she were catnip and he a tabby. Not the time, of course. Trouble brewing. But perhaps later.
“That's...very, very,” she said.
“It will be okay,” he murmured, lips grazing her temple. “I will fix this.”
Jackie smacked his shoulder. “Haven't you done enough? I told you she needed a hospital,” she said. “We can't keep running around like headless chickens.”
“Jackie,” he growled, tearing himself away from Rose's warmth to glare a warning at her mother.
“Rose should see a real doctor,” Jackie insisted.
He surged to his feet, needing to move as he raged. That was proper behavior for him, familiar. But, before he could say anything cutting, he realized that Jackie's maternal instincts were spot on. He stopped and nodded.
“Right. Yes. We should go. Find a ship. Jump world. Get Rose to a hospital.”
“What?” Rose said, squinting at him through pain-dulled eyes. “We can't just leave. This world is in trouble.”
“I'm sorry,” he told her. “There isn't time to save everyone.”
“Time,” she snorted. She attempted to spring up from the bed, but collapsed back to her seat. The failure didn't curtail her optimism. “Look. I'm fine. Just a bit dizzy. And sore. And,” she swallowed convulsively, “and nauseated.”
“Rose,” he snapped, exasperated. Realizing his sharp tone wasn't appropriate, he immediately modulated his voice to better reflect his concern. “This will kill you.”
“Not today. Even if I'm very...very pregnant, it just happened. There's still time. I'm not having 41,000 babies today, yeah?” When he didn't answer, she prompted him with a less authoritative plea. “Not today, right?”
“No. Not today,” he said. “Not for...oh, who can tell about this sort of gestation? But, too soon.”
His fingers, moving without his instruction, clutched his head. Hair, and lots of it, silky, familiar. Not ginger, but a part of him, a part he easily recognized. He rubbed his scalp in small tight circles, as he fought off an urge to scream. This body seemed quite prone to movement without forethought. He'd always been kinetic. Now he was given to hysteria, adrenaline rushes, headaches and palpitations. No wonder Donna had acted so twitchy at first, given this genetic profile. Imagine traveling the universe in such a reactive vessel! Well, she had. They all did. Humans. How he used to pity their plodding thought processes, never appreciating the physical burden they operated under. How did they survive, thrive even? He struggled to breathe normally, whatever that was. Didn't breathing come naturally for humans? Like...like warmongering? Surely, with the nearly infinite resources available to his mind, he could master this body. Or, at least, the fundamentals.
“We should,” Jackie began.
He held up one finger. Almost had the panic buttons sorted. “Wait! Just...”
Of all the times to be breaking in new synapses, this had to be the most inconvenient. Jackie uttered an indignant squeak, but Rose shushed her, as he waded into the tangle of his internal wiring. His half-human brain was an energy hog. It required an astonishing number of nutrients to function. Inefficiency abounded. He felt like an electrician, expected to rewire a Victorian flophouse. He would be ages sorting it all out. In the meantime, he needed fuel. And he'd very little stored fat in this vessel. He hated to think what the fertilized eggs were demanding of Rose's body. They were no doubt devouring her alive.
After a little judicious nervous system tweaking, he managed to auto-regulate his anxiety levels. He feathered back on the cortisol production. Just about...there. His hands stopped shaking. His breathing slowed. He paced over to the window. Movement without increased agitation. Good. He bound back to the entryway. No dizziness. No rushing pulse. Check. Taking a deeper breath, he counted off a few measured heartbeats. Then, he turned to face his little family. They looked worried. Pulling out the screwdriver, he pointed it at Rose. It beeped and he checked the readings.
“You are 112.296, er, we will call it, 110 hours from your next ovulation. And judging by the follicle profile, your relative youth and health, you should produce, let's say, in the neighborhood of twenty, twenty-four eggs, at one time. All of them fertilized. Obviously. And we do not want implantation. We have about...six and a half days until you are in critical distress? Although, as this planet has a nineteen hour rotation, I should say eight days.”
“We can take four then,” Rose said. “Four days to save the world.”
“It's too dangerous, sweetheart,” Jackie said. “You can't even stand. How are you going to save people?”
“I don't know, mum,” Rose said. “The Doctor will figure something out.”
He felt an unexpected surge of appreciation for Jackie. Her level head in this emergency was a revelation. He'd always imagined she'd be a troublesome traveler. But she'd been taking her first alien world in stride. Perhaps she didn't completely realize where they were. But she knew Rose needed help, and she'd found them food. He was tempted to side with her against Rose. Anything could happen, go wrong, if they started meddling in the affairs of this world. Better safe than sorry when it came to Rose's well being. And then, there was the future of their 41,000 children. He was a father again. He let the notion swirl around in his stomach. It caused a touch of dyspepsia. He could use a bowl of chicken soup. Or a nice cup of tea. Right. Synaptic hunger. He snapped his fingers.
“Jackie,” he said, closing the space between them to grip her elbows. “We need more food. Right now. Meat. Fruit. Fish. Rose is losing nutrients by the bucketful. That's why she's so weak.” He glanced at Rose. “Eat some of your rations. They should help. But,” he focused again on Jackie, “she'll need solids, too. We both will. Tea. Find a bit of—no, wait, I have some in my,” he patted himself down and crowed, “Yes, pockets. I love pockets. Oh, I miss my lovely long coat, with all of those pockets. But this jacket is fine, too. Always liked it. Where was I? Food. Yes. After we have eaten, we can decide what to do next. Fair enough?”
“Couldn't we call room service?” Jackie asked, pointing to what she thought was a phone on the wall.
“Room service?” He'd never heard of anything so daft. Even if it were possible, telling everyone they were vulnerable, letting strangers in the room? Like that would be a good idea! He looked where she was pointing. “That's art work,” he said. “A copy of Pulse Persuasion by the local artist, D'elKwokLuVong. A very popular work, well, I say popular. Used for hotels and adverts. I'm partial to a lesser known masterpiece, called As Luck Would Have It, by the same artist. More color. Vibrant. Alive. From his Fates and Chances Period. This one always struck me as too, too, I don't know, commercial. And, now you mention it, it does look a bit like a phone. Although, it can't be, because no phones. Also, they don't have room service on this planet. And we don't want everyone in service to know we are here. We need to keep a low profile.”
“The fewer people we let in the better, mum,” Rose said, holding out a gel pack toward Jackie. He stepped between them, rotating Jackie toward the entrance again.
“No sharing,” he told Rose, over his shoulder, “You need it more than we do.”
“Why can't you go?” Jackie asked. “I don't want to leave Rose.”
“I can protect her,” he said, meeting her eye squarely, while striving for his most reasonable tone and expression, “And you can't.” He took both of her hands in his. “I won't let anything happen to her, I promise you.”
“I've heard that before,” Jackie said. She assessed him for longer than was flattering. Then, she drew her hands free from his hold and nodded. “I'll go, then,” she said. He heaved a great sigh. Only, she didn't go. Side-stepping around him, she edged closer to her daughter. “But you two stay put. I'll be back quick as I can, sweetheart. Try to rest. And don't run off...either of you.”
“Only a full frontal assault will shift us,” he promised, putting a hand to the small of her back to guide her along.
“Wish that sounded less likely to happen,” Jackie said, as she bent to kiss Rose's cheek.
Rose caught at her sleeve. “Will you be okay out there?” she asked.
“She'll be fine,” he said, breezily, giving a small shove to Jackie. She swatted him away.
“This isn't London,” Rose warned.
“S'not that different,” Jackie said. “You know, I thought it would be really...weird, the way you used to go on about alien worlds. But I think cities are the same all over. Pubs and shops and space sailors on shore leave. I'll come back richer, you'll see.”
Her jaunty assurance chilled him to the bone. “Don't get arrested,” he hissed in an undertone as he escorted her to the entrance hall. “And don’t sample the food. I need to test it for toxins. Poison. You were lucky with the kabobs.”
“Wasn’t luck. I asked him about human food. You always think I'm such an idiot...”
“You were lucky he told you the truth. Series L-5 supplies, those should be safe for humans. Read the labels. If you stop seeing English, you’ve strayed too far, come back. And there is this fruit, filled with liquid, called a Xlognuh...delicious and particularly nutritious. It will clear Rose's head.”
“Xlognut,” Jackie said. “L-5.”
“Nuh,” he corrected. “But, yes, well…close enough.” He pointed his screwdriver at the wall. “I'm going to set up a sonic resonance field. Just about...here. Be sure to call out when you return or it will knock you senseless. And Jackie,” he caught her gaze and held it, lifting both brows for emphasis, “Do be careful.”
“I’ve been on my own a long time,” Jackie said. “While you two were traveling, I took care of myself. And before you came along, I took care of Rose, too. See you look after her.”
He glanced toward Rose, then nodded. Jackie plodded off along the stem-like corridor that connected their room to the central shaft of the hotel. He watched her go. She turned back to wave, just before dropping out of sight, and the briefest twinge of apprehension made him swallow. No way to tell if it was a true premonition or just a swish of stomach bile. The universe around him had yet to be defined out of the stew of his muddled sensations. But there was no doubt he'd gotten the Tyler women into one hell of a mess. He traced the wiring in the walls to a com-unit, a micro dot of holographic transmitters, well hidden from view. As Rose sucked on the last energy packet, he dismantled the device.
He dawdled over the sonic field. Not because it was particularly complicated. A sonic field generator only required a power source, a paper clip, a copper coin and a reverberation razor. The razor, a primitive sonic device, culled from the courtesy supplies in the bathroom, was a disposable one, which meant their protection was a one-shot zapper. But once he’d boosted the signal, he felt confident it would deliver a nasty shock. Still, he kept checking his work. He just didn’t know what to say to Rose. She had curled into a fetal pose on the bed, silently watching him. He had no idea what she was thinking. And he was afraid to ask.
Finally, she broke the silence. “I’ve missed watching you putter,” she said.
He lit up inside. Feeling fizzy, he turned, beaming his best smile at her. “I've missed you watching.”
“Did you?” She asked, a slight tremor in behind her words. “You and Donna? Traveling the universe with your equal...at long last...did you miss me?”
Guilt wilted his smile. “Donna?” he said, stalling for time. The waves of depression threatened to swamp him again. He remembered how clueless Donna had been about her coming fate and what she'd told Rose before they parted. He had processed Donna's remarks as symptoms of her illness. And never even considered the effect they might have on Rose. “Donna wasn’t--” His tongue stuck to his teeth as he ran out of saliva, inconvenient that. Should have expected his human body to react to his turmoil. His voice cracked. “Donna didn't make it. Her mind couldn't...that is, she…”
Rose sat up, swinging her feet around to the floor. “Donna’s dead? But...I thought...”
“No. Not dead. Exactly. I took her home. We didn't travel. We couldn't. The meta-crisis wasn't over when we left you. It doesn't stop until...well, it doesn't stop.”
“Tell me how it works,” Rose said.
“All biological material is converted. Donna was a conduit, for the process. She thought she was part of it, but she never was. She would have been absorbed into the new life. I had to destroy the link between them. But freeing her came at a cost. Her mind. She had to forget...everything. Everything she'd seen, learned—who she became, traveling with me. I took everything from her. By force.” His reasoning turned to pleading, as Donna's horror rekindled in Rose's face. “I had to. Can't you see that? It was the only way to stop the transfer, the only way to save her life.”
“You took her memory?”
“It was the only way,” he insisted. “One of us had to die. Just as Ka'an foretold. I couldn't let it be her. Not after losing you. Not after giving up…my own hopes, to save her, to save all of you. This,” he smacked his chest hard, “This abomination would have sucked the life out of her. All of my memories drained through her mind. She tried to hold on to them. There's never supposed to be two of me. Or three. I should have been dead at the start of it.” He wiped a bit of spittle from his lips. Calmed down a little. “A meta crisis claims a life for a life, usually from another Time Lord. Information is shared, genetic and intellectual. I thought if we left, if we sealed off this universe, if we cut the cord, it might stop the process. But, I couldn’t leave him here alone, could I? He was too dangerous. Imagine me, without you…born in battle, with human failings…”
“But you were without me. And you...you took Donna's mind?” She couldn't seem to believe it. Her brow furrowed as if she struggled to fathom his reasons.
“I had no choice.”
“You did. You could have let her die. I would rather die, than lose you like that. Did you ask her? Did you find out what she wanted...?”
“She couldn't be subjective, Rose. Not in the middle of the meta-crisis. You have to believe me. I had no choice! You had to stay. We had to go.” He stabbed a finger at the far wall, as if he could point toward another universe. “And then, it didn’t matter...our loss, my loss." He still hadn't come to grips with this, the cosmic joke at his expense. "Because the conversion process kept going, even across the void. And I truly hope that wasn't y-r—the plan. Donna wasn't herself. She wanted to keep going, to become me. And that desire was destroying her. So, I stopped it. And then, I took her home. Told her family to forget me, too. Never to mention me.”
Rose had stopped listening. Her skin had a ghostly pallor, perhaps from her illness, but he thought not. She stared out the window, not looking at him, not speaking. He watched her until the hopelessness burgeoning inside made him turn away. He couldn't bear her silent condemnation. She hated him. Just as Donna had hated him at the end, when he’d been inside her mind. There was no forgiving some things. He'd apologized, the whole time. But what did it matter? He'd ravaged her mind. It hardly helped if he said he was sorry for it. To his surprise, when Rose spoke again, she seemed to have changed the subject.
“Why did you say it was me?” Rose said. “My plan?”
“What?” He took a shaky breath and forced himself to look at her.
“You said, I created the human you, caused all of this. Why?”
He waved a hand. “I wasn't thinking clearly. Don't worry about...”
“Doctor,” she said, making his title a warning. She didn't want him to deceive her, coddle her.
He moved closer, held out his hand, palm up to entreat her.
“You are the only one I know who has that sort of power. That could have arranged so many coincidences." Even as he said this, he acknowledged the oversimplification with a dip of his head and a slight squint. "Or, I should say, the only one who would have cared enough to arrange them. The Old Ones could have managed it. The TARDIS has enough power. But the TARDIS can't initiated a meta-crisis on her own. She would never think to attempt it, unless I'd been physically compromised, blown apart or the like. If I was injured beyond repair, her automatic systems might try to salvage me. But she would need instructions from my subconscious, even then.”
Tossing his hands up, he dismissed the idea of the TARDIS as a mastermind. “She might want to save me. But, I was alive and well, standing just outside her. I gave no orders. Someone...? Something convinced her to create this body. She either believed this hand and the residual energy was all that was left of me...or...she wanted me archived like this. Maybe the aborted regeneration alarmed her, but…that wouldn't explain the initiative.”
He sorted through his impressions of what happened, before and after he was shot down by that Dalek.
“And then, you sent me word. Two words: Bad Wolf. You know what that means.”
“Words to lead me back to you.”
“And I saw them, printed everywhere, on the TARDIS door. The TARDIS door, Rose! A warning from you, across time and space. I thought it meant the universe was breaking down, but, that was faulty reasoning, because...how could you, a purely human you, send the words? And that was only the beginning. Someone closed the TARDIS door, trapping Donna inside. Someone led Donna to me, not once but twice. And you were there the second time.” He framed his eyes with both hands. Fingers spread wide. “I can see you in the vestiges of her memories. And her grandfather met me, too. There were psychic portents. He will knock four times. Someone had to guide Dalek Ka'an, help him in the Time Vortex. He went mad, of course. But he found Davros, who created an engine to fractured the universe, and there aren't too many beings that could do that.”
Rose laughed, a rattling, bitter sound. “If I could manipulate the universe, don't you think I would have come back, years ago?”
“It doesn't work that way. You aren't acting consciously. We are on a path, you created, oh, so long ago. A path weaving through time and space and alternative realities. All of this was set in motion, before my ninth regeneration. Do you remember coming back for me the first time, on Satellite Five?”
“Some of it. I was home. And I saw those words," Brow furrowed in concentration, she formed the name with her lips, but didn't utter it aloud, "Bad Wolf." A second later, her face smoothed into blank bewilderment, as she went on with her recollection, "I looked into the TARDIS. And the TARDIS looked into me. There was singing.”
“You looked into the Time Vortex,” he said, settling himself at the very corner of the bed, careful not to crowd her. “Nobody is meant to do that. To see all of those variables in time and space. All of those futures and pasts and alternatives. On Gallifrey, my home world, there is an untempered schism, a sort of window onto the time vortex.”
“You told me. That's what made you a Time Lord.”
“Yes. But, it is more complicated than that.” He closed his eyes as he thought back to his childhood trials. How to explain his culture, succinctly? “My people evolved in a sea of Artron energy. It helped to create us. The TARDIS coral evolved swimming in and out of the schism. They are like our dolphins, a different type of intelligence on our world. Eventually, a few of my people, those who carry the regenerate DNA, were able to tolerate the full spectrum of temporal fires, untempered, for a few minutes. It is like being God. We see the shape of our infinite futures.” He opened his eyes and met hers as he said, “We can create ourselves.”
“Sounds horrible,” Rose said.
“It is. Nobody should play God. And, I've tried, since we last met. But that's another story, for another time. My point is, we were exposed to the schism as children. To see if we could be Time Lords. Some go mad. Some run away.”
“You ran,” Rose said and her certainty arrested his attention for a moment. Had he told her that?
This body was given to shivering. The hairs stood up on his arms. He rubbed his hands together, briskly, wondering if there was a way to close the window. Night was falling.
Finally, he decided Rose's knowledge wasn't a threat to him. He nodded, simply accepted her knowing. “I did. But I stayed long enough to qualify for training. You, on the other hand, let the Vortex run through you. You just opened up your head and heart and lived with it. Only a TARDIS can do that. Maybe that’s the key, an open heart. My people were after glory and you were just…trying to help me.”
“Save you. I wanted to save you,” Rose said, in a dreamy tone. Her eyes lost focus. She stared at, through, the far wall. “The TARDIS wanted that, too.”
“Yes!” He touched her hand, drawing her attention back to him. “I believe you mapped out a path through time and space. And you told her about it. A way to keep me safe, deliver me here. Archiving is one of the primary functions of a TARDIS. She would have understood I was about to regenerated on Satellite Five. She's temporally transcendent. When a Time Lord regenerates, his TARDIS helps him survive the process. She sifts through his memories, copies and transfers them to the new host body. Sometimes it takes a week or more to sort out the personalities. And then, she is programmed to archive anything the new persona doesn't need. But she couldn’t do that with the MATRIX locked away from her. My previous self, born in battle, carried his predecessor with him, just as I carried on the...attachments and passions of my former selves. I am essentially a three-fold man. I think the TARDIS couldn't cope. But, you, you might have shown her a way.”
Rose sighed, her head dropping forward. “I don’t remember doing that,” she said, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “When I try to, it is like a bright curtain in my mind. Fire and fear and pain. I can't look past it. I had a need to save you. Because you are important to...all that is, all that was…”
“All that ever will be,” he said it with her.
“I understand that, now,” she said, lifting her chin until their lines of sight intersected. “When I was traveling on my own, jumping from one alternative reality to another, I could see how “what will be” changed. Now, I know why you don't like to say much. How a single word or decision can change everything. Donna turned right and everything unraveled. She had to turn left.”
“Did you make her?”
“I…explained. I told her what to do. How to change her life.” Tears filled her eyes. “She would always--die.”
“Yes. That's what I saw, too. Her path kept circling back to the same end. And I couldn't take it.” He inched closer. “But she's fine, now, Rose. Can you see that?”
Rose shook her head, just slightly. “No. How?”
“I died. At last. And the TARDIS exploded. I'm sure the meta-crisis stopped at that point, because the polarity reversed. When I was pulled or pushed across to this dimension, finally archived, Donna would have been set free.”
Shame gnawed at him as he recalled his childish reaction. He had been furious when he'd realized he would be the one to die. He'd raged against fate, with Donna's Grandfather looking on. But he'd accepted it at last. It wasn't his finest moment. On the other hand, nobody likes to be manipulated. And he could feel the teeth of the Wolf biting into him, at that moment, when Wilf had knocked four times. He'd imagined, simply ending. He hadn't realized she would archive him, not until the TARDIS exploded.
Rose clutched at his forearm. “Donna's alive? With all her memories?”
“Oh, yes. Fine. Sorted.” Happy to process this bit of good news himself, he took a moment to savor the thought. “I see no reason why she wouldn't be restored, once I stopped exerting my influence in that dimension,” he said. Then, he grimaced as another thought occurred. “Mind you. She might be getting a divorce.”
“She's married?”
“Yep. Simple-minded chap. Reminded me of Mickey. Harmless enough.” Before Rose could do more than poke him, he asked, “What was it like? Traveling across alternatives?”
“Terrifying,” she said. “And amazing. And...lonely. I've seen things...”
Oh, that made his heart ache. He understood it so well. They had so much in common. Nobody had ever looked at him like Rose. She saw the man he wanted to be. She laughed at his jokes. She wanted to make the universe better. Fix it, like she'd fixed him. Of course, they'd both made mistakes. A twinge of regret for his own meddling, tempered his pride in hers. Odd how poignant, how rich those feelings were now. Fear and pride and tenderness and awe...all mixed together. He wanted to console Rose, even as he cheered her on. They were quite the pair.
“I couldn't really talk to anyone. I'd meet Mum or Mickey or Jack...in a parallel world...and they'd just...look straight through me. I was a stranger to them. And I knew things, terrible things. I had to let them make mistakes that I knew would cost them everything. Right turns. Wrong turns. Say the wrong word in the right ear and the whole world fractures. Its just so much pressure. I could see it happening in the dimension cannon, over and over again.”
“Doesn't it just drive you mad?” he asked, the same question he'd asked her Bad Wolf self.
“Completely. I knew...well, I'd seen, all of this brilliant stuff, yeah? And I couldn't share it with anyone. Just like when I traveled with you, only...”
“Then, we had each other,” he said. His hand covered both of hers, caressing her fingers.
“This time, I had no one. It was always a relief to find Donna, to tell her about you, to work on a project with her. Even though...”
“You couldn't save her. We were linked together in every dimension. All of the time lines went through her,” he said, putting it together in his head. “There was only one way out for her, because we were supposed to end up here.”
“Pregnant?” Rose asked, one hand pulling away from his grip and drifting upward to settle over her bellybutton.
“Oh, I don't know.” Exasperation made him restless. He stood up suddenly, pacing. “I thought that was part of your grand plan. But since you don't remember having a plan, we have no real information. Maybe it was the TARDIS, giving me a family, again, or...it is nothing more than a side effect.”
“Some side effect.” Rose tilted her head bacK to look at him. “What do we do about it? I mean, its alright for Mum to say, get me to a real doctor, but where do we find one who can fix this? Can you fix it?”
“Of course, I can.” He stopped before her and took her by the shoulders, drawing her to her feet, and then into his arms. Hugging her tight, he said, “Maybe you hate me now. I understand that, but...”
She pushed away from him. “I don't hate you. How could I?”
He brought a hand up between them and counted off his sins with his fingers. “I left you behind. Broke my promises. Hurt Donna. That was completely unforgivable."
"And partly my fault, if I set us on this path. I never should have let you leave. I..."
He laughed. She has such confidence in her power over him. "You tried to stop me. And I didn't want to go, or come here, in the end. But, you listen to me, Rose Tyler. I won't let you die. Even if it means...” He didn't want to say it. His lips clamped closed.
“What?”
“Even if it means terminating them.”
“Terminating?” She inhaled sharply and her voice took on a desperate edge. “But you can't. They are part of you. Part of us, yeah?”
“I won't lose you. Not again.”
“It won't come to that.” She stepped in close and gently stroked a hand up the back of his upper arm. “You'll see. We'll figure something out.”
He wanted to believe in her. But he needed to make his position crystal clear. Locking his gaze on hers, he gritted his teeth, so his breath hissed between them. He let the fire of firm purpose burn in his eyes. Emperors crossed him at their peril. He wasn't about to be pushed around by the whims of one little Earth girl. But Rose didn't flinch. She just stared at him, all impassive defiance, until his resolve faltered. And his belief in their legendary prowess rebounded. To his own amazement, as he relaxed into a more carefree stance, his mind cleared. A plan or two began to take shape.
“Yes, of course, we will,” he heard himself saying, and wondered what sort of magic she used on him. Just for a second, his suspicions returned, but he set them quickly aside. Rose was Rose, no sense trying to work out how she managed to cajole him into Christmas dinners and the like. “As a matter of fact,” He flicked his fingertips at his temples to indicate all of his recent mental activity and gave her a wag of the brow. “I have a few ideas brewing.”
The pink tip of her tongue appeared at the corner of her wolfish smile. “Care to share?”
“I think I might,” he said, leaning ever so gently in to bump her shoulder. “I believe, that is, I'm fairly certain I can modify your energy signal. Take you off the radar for a bit.”
“Buy us more time,” Rose nodded. “Good idea. And...if you can make my mum's phone work,” She fumbled for the mobile, she'd secured from Jackie and handed it to him, “We might, I don't know, summon help, even jump off this planet.”
“Now, that! That I would love. What I wouldn't do with a dimension cannon about now,” he said, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Never mind the lectures on temporal refractory curves and infinitesimal fissures in the fabric of your personal reality. Pop us all back to Earth. And Bob's your Uncle. We'd have you fit for duty in no time.”
“Right then, get busy. And while you are tinkering, tell me about this Scourge. How did they get here? Where could they be hiding?” She half-pushed, half-dragged a cushion toward the window. “How do we stop them? I'm going to consider the lay of the land.”
“They're in the Hatchery,” he told her, indicating direction with a tip of his head, as his hands kept busy on the phone. “That square structure to the East. Well guarded. The trick will be getting past security. I've worked out a couple of ways to do that.”
Rose laughed, dipping her head so her hair spilled across her face. “Yeah, you are quite handy,” she said.
A sense of contentment bloomed in his chest and he sidled closer to her. The warm approval in her voice set his world right again. Rose still cared for him. Everything was going to be fine. He would learn to get along in this new body. He could use an operator's manual, but he'd manage. They would sort this mess out and, once they did, once Rose was safe...then...then...images of Rose bombarded him, like a slide-show in his head. He thought about her touching him, smiling at him, laughing along with him. He would bump her shoulder. No. He would hold her, oh, so close. The memory of her delicious musky aroma filled his mind, crowding out reason. He thought about kissing her, tangling his fingers in her hair. They could lie down together on the bed, and...
A hot prickle raced along his arms and up his legs. Blood flowed into his bowels. He glanced down, looking for some injury. But he felt fine, relaxed and, yet, ready for action. He stilled. Head cocked to one side, he considered the sudden desire he had to touch himself, to stroke a palm across his belly and relieve this increasing tension. Right now. Rose said something, but he missed it, preoccupied. A liquid heaviness grew in his gut, triggering a swelling sensation in his pants. A stiffening. What the...? Turgidness? Now? Talk about inappropriate reactions. Rose couldn't get anymore pregnant. Not, he recalled, that it mattered, because humans didn't observe mating seasons. But, she certainly wasn't in the mood. Nor was he, come to that. He couldn't even imagine where to begin. Although, he could begin by removing her jacket. Or his. His seemed quite constricting. But, no. Of all the ridiculous times to prepare for sex. In the middle of this crisis? Really? Oh, how he hated this body.
End This Part
by Rabid1st
Doctor Who
Ten/Rose
AU from “The End of Time”
Rating: Mature Eventually
Beta: Keswindhover
Warning: This is not a Ten2 story. He is gone, but, not forgotten, exactly. Basically, in my world, Ten2 was a vessel, created by the TARDIS, to store the Tenth Regeneration of the Doctor. A fleshy pocket watch, if you will, for those who have seen Human Nature or Utopia.
Summary: The Tenth Doctor has been archived into a biometrically identical vessel with a human heart and other human parts. He's worked out everything but the impossible bits, but he hasn't quite figured out how to empathize or deal with his human body reacting outside his conscious control.
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”
~The Summer Day by Mary Oliver
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
As Rose slumped forward into a partial faint, his body, this bloody useless marionette he'd been battling all day, sprang into action. It caught her smoothly, effortlessly, in sync with the speed of his thoughts. Well, not quite that quickly, but far faster than he would have imagined possible a moment earlier. He checked Rose's fall neatly, before she could so much as skin a knee. She sagged against him, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to stay conscious. His nose dipped into the curve of her neck and hair spilled against his face, arresting his attention. No acrid odors. She smelled scrumptious, easily the most tantalizing molecules he'd ever inhaled. And, this seemed crucial, nothing like she'd smelled earlier in the day. Rose had a musk, now. She'd been sweating, of course. Fragrant notes of sunlight and spice and salt graced her skin. And her hair was redolent with the smoky intoxicants from the streets. She smelled better than those skewers of meat Jackie had procured from the Judoon vendor. And those had been perfect.
He'd had no idea human body odors could be pleasant, never mind truly appealing, to the human nose. They certainly made an elaborate fuss about them. Perhaps his hybrid nose had some advantages. He had no point of reference to compare. The TARDIS neutralized fragrances as a matter of necessity. Toxin-coated humans endangered the health and wellbeing of other species they encountered. It had been his policy to set the automatic systems so that any stray particles in the air were zapped by the TARDIS purification protocols. He, also, insisted on supplying zero-scent cosmetics for everyone on board to erase their natural stink. This wasn't solely for his benefit. Some species were particularly sensitive to pheromones. Just careless, really, to offer more information than necessary to strangers.
During their traveling days, Rose, up close, had emitted a decidedly astringent odor, not unpleasant to his Time Lord nose. Though, ape-scented, like all humans, her hair carried a few bitter notes from peroxide infusion, and a whiff of the London rush hour. But, he'd tolerated her odor well enough in the clinch. Truly, had she'd reeked liked beached fulkapafish, the soothing nature of her hugs would have compensated for any olfactory discomfort. He'd set aside most of his squeamishness when it came to cuddling Rose. His habit of jerking and squirming, for example. His proximity sensors made him edgy in the embrace of others. The closer he came to another being the more he could sense of their past and future, but hugging Rose ordered his universe. Together, they bent space and time. The temporal eddies that had always swirled around him became tranquil pools when Rose took him in her arms.
She made him better. He'd told her many times. Better, with its connotations of healing and renewal was the perfect word. All those things to see and do, in all the universe and he just kept running and running, from one to another. He'd run, but never toward anything in particular, never toward anyone, but her. He'd run toward her, and then he'd tried to run away. And, look what that had cost them. Rose was paying a high price for his cowardice. And he'd been rude, all day, blaming her for the meta-crisis, for the archiving. Even if her Bad Wolf persona had manipulated events, it wasn't Rose's choices that led to this situation. His choices were at fault. He never should have left her behind. He should have cracked the universe open, the first time he'd lost her.
He found it hard to let go as he settled her on the edge of the bed. It felt right to sit with his arms around her. If only they could just lie down together. He wanted to taste her, rub his cheek along hers, transferring that delicious scent to his own skin, as if she were catnip and he a tabby. Not the time, of course. Trouble brewing. But perhaps later.
“That's...very, very,” she said.
“It will be okay,” he murmured, lips grazing her temple. “I will fix this.”
Jackie smacked his shoulder. “Haven't you done enough? I told you she needed a hospital,” she said. “We can't keep running around like headless chickens.”
“Jackie,” he growled, tearing himself away from Rose's warmth to glare a warning at her mother.
“Rose should see a real doctor,” Jackie insisted.
He surged to his feet, needing to move as he raged. That was proper behavior for him, familiar. But, before he could say anything cutting, he realized that Jackie's maternal instincts were spot on. He stopped and nodded.
“Right. Yes. We should go. Find a ship. Jump world. Get Rose to a hospital.”
“What?” Rose said, squinting at him through pain-dulled eyes. “We can't just leave. This world is in trouble.”
“I'm sorry,” he told her. “There isn't time to save everyone.”
“Time,” she snorted. She attempted to spring up from the bed, but collapsed back to her seat. The failure didn't curtail her optimism. “Look. I'm fine. Just a bit dizzy. And sore. And,” she swallowed convulsively, “and nauseated.”
“Rose,” he snapped, exasperated. Realizing his sharp tone wasn't appropriate, he immediately modulated his voice to better reflect his concern. “This will kill you.”
“Not today. Even if I'm very...very pregnant, it just happened. There's still time. I'm not having 41,000 babies today, yeah?” When he didn't answer, she prompted him with a less authoritative plea. “Not today, right?”
“No. Not today,” he said. “Not for...oh, who can tell about this sort of gestation? But, too soon.”
His fingers, moving without his instruction, clutched his head. Hair, and lots of it, silky, familiar. Not ginger, but a part of him, a part he easily recognized. He rubbed his scalp in small tight circles, as he fought off an urge to scream. This body seemed quite prone to movement without forethought. He'd always been kinetic. Now he was given to hysteria, adrenaline rushes, headaches and palpitations. No wonder Donna had acted so twitchy at first, given this genetic profile. Imagine traveling the universe in such a reactive vessel! Well, she had. They all did. Humans. How he used to pity their plodding thought processes, never appreciating the physical burden they operated under. How did they survive, thrive even? He struggled to breathe normally, whatever that was. Didn't breathing come naturally for humans? Like...like warmongering? Surely, with the nearly infinite resources available to his mind, he could master this body. Or, at least, the fundamentals.
“We should,” Jackie began.
He held up one finger. Almost had the panic buttons sorted. “Wait! Just...”
Of all the times to be breaking in new synapses, this had to be the most inconvenient. Jackie uttered an indignant squeak, but Rose shushed her, as he waded into the tangle of his internal wiring. His half-human brain was an energy hog. It required an astonishing number of nutrients to function. Inefficiency abounded. He felt like an electrician, expected to rewire a Victorian flophouse. He would be ages sorting it all out. In the meantime, he needed fuel. And he'd very little stored fat in this vessel. He hated to think what the fertilized eggs were demanding of Rose's body. They were no doubt devouring her alive.
After a little judicious nervous system tweaking, he managed to auto-regulate his anxiety levels. He feathered back on the cortisol production. Just about...there. His hands stopped shaking. His breathing slowed. He paced over to the window. Movement without increased agitation. Good. He bound back to the entryway. No dizziness. No rushing pulse. Check. Taking a deeper breath, he counted off a few measured heartbeats. Then, he turned to face his little family. They looked worried. Pulling out the screwdriver, he pointed it at Rose. It beeped and he checked the readings.
“You are 112.296, er, we will call it, 110 hours from your next ovulation. And judging by the follicle profile, your relative youth and health, you should produce, let's say, in the neighborhood of twenty, twenty-four eggs, at one time. All of them fertilized. Obviously. And we do not want implantation. We have about...six and a half days until you are in critical distress? Although, as this planet has a nineteen hour rotation, I should say eight days.”
“We can take four then,” Rose said. “Four days to save the world.”
“It's too dangerous, sweetheart,” Jackie said. “You can't even stand. How are you going to save people?”
“I don't know, mum,” Rose said. “The Doctor will figure something out.”
He felt an unexpected surge of appreciation for Jackie. Her level head in this emergency was a revelation. He'd always imagined she'd be a troublesome traveler. But she'd been taking her first alien world in stride. Perhaps she didn't completely realize where they were. But she knew Rose needed help, and she'd found them food. He was tempted to side with her against Rose. Anything could happen, go wrong, if they started meddling in the affairs of this world. Better safe than sorry when it came to Rose's well being. And then, there was the future of their 41,000 children. He was a father again. He let the notion swirl around in his stomach. It caused a touch of dyspepsia. He could use a bowl of chicken soup. Or a nice cup of tea. Right. Synaptic hunger. He snapped his fingers.
“Jackie,” he said, closing the space between them to grip her elbows. “We need more food. Right now. Meat. Fruit. Fish. Rose is losing nutrients by the bucketful. That's why she's so weak.” He glanced at Rose. “Eat some of your rations. They should help. But,” he focused again on Jackie, “she'll need solids, too. We both will. Tea. Find a bit of—no, wait, I have some in my,” he patted himself down and crowed, “Yes, pockets. I love pockets. Oh, I miss my lovely long coat, with all of those pockets. But this jacket is fine, too. Always liked it. Where was I? Food. Yes. After we have eaten, we can decide what to do next. Fair enough?”
“Couldn't we call room service?” Jackie asked, pointing to what she thought was a phone on the wall.
“Room service?” He'd never heard of anything so daft. Even if it were possible, telling everyone they were vulnerable, letting strangers in the room? Like that would be a good idea! He looked where she was pointing. “That's art work,” he said. “A copy of Pulse Persuasion by the local artist, D'elKwokLuVong. A very popular work, well, I say popular. Used for hotels and adverts. I'm partial to a lesser known masterpiece, called As Luck Would Have It, by the same artist. More color. Vibrant. Alive. From his Fates and Chances Period. This one always struck me as too, too, I don't know, commercial. And, now you mention it, it does look a bit like a phone. Although, it can't be, because no phones. Also, they don't have room service on this planet. And we don't want everyone in service to know we are here. We need to keep a low profile.”
“The fewer people we let in the better, mum,” Rose said, holding out a gel pack toward Jackie. He stepped between them, rotating Jackie toward the entrance again.
“No sharing,” he told Rose, over his shoulder, “You need it more than we do.”
“Why can't you go?” Jackie asked. “I don't want to leave Rose.”
“I can protect her,” he said, meeting her eye squarely, while striving for his most reasonable tone and expression, “And you can't.” He took both of her hands in his. “I won't let anything happen to her, I promise you.”
“I've heard that before,” Jackie said. She assessed him for longer than was flattering. Then, she drew her hands free from his hold and nodded. “I'll go, then,” she said. He heaved a great sigh. Only, she didn't go. Side-stepping around him, she edged closer to her daughter. “But you two stay put. I'll be back quick as I can, sweetheart. Try to rest. And don't run off...either of you.”
“Only a full frontal assault will shift us,” he promised, putting a hand to the small of her back to guide her along.
“Wish that sounded less likely to happen,” Jackie said, as she bent to kiss Rose's cheek.
Rose caught at her sleeve. “Will you be okay out there?” she asked.
“She'll be fine,” he said, breezily, giving a small shove to Jackie. She swatted him away.
“This isn't London,” Rose warned.
“S'not that different,” Jackie said. “You know, I thought it would be really...weird, the way you used to go on about alien worlds. But I think cities are the same all over. Pubs and shops and space sailors on shore leave. I'll come back richer, you'll see.”
Her jaunty assurance chilled him to the bone. “Don't get arrested,” he hissed in an undertone as he escorted her to the entrance hall. “And don’t sample the food. I need to test it for toxins. Poison. You were lucky with the kabobs.”
“Wasn’t luck. I asked him about human food. You always think I'm such an idiot...”
“You were lucky he told you the truth. Series L-5 supplies, those should be safe for humans. Read the labels. If you stop seeing English, you’ve strayed too far, come back. And there is this fruit, filled with liquid, called a Xlognuh...delicious and particularly nutritious. It will clear Rose's head.”
“Xlognut,” Jackie said. “L-5.”
“Nuh,” he corrected. “But, yes, well…close enough.” He pointed his screwdriver at the wall. “I'm going to set up a sonic resonance field. Just about...here. Be sure to call out when you return or it will knock you senseless. And Jackie,” he caught her gaze and held it, lifting both brows for emphasis, “Do be careful.”
“I’ve been on my own a long time,” Jackie said. “While you two were traveling, I took care of myself. And before you came along, I took care of Rose, too. See you look after her.”
He glanced toward Rose, then nodded. Jackie plodded off along the stem-like corridor that connected their room to the central shaft of the hotel. He watched her go. She turned back to wave, just before dropping out of sight, and the briefest twinge of apprehension made him swallow. No way to tell if it was a true premonition or just a swish of stomach bile. The universe around him had yet to be defined out of the stew of his muddled sensations. But there was no doubt he'd gotten the Tyler women into one hell of a mess. He traced the wiring in the walls to a com-unit, a micro dot of holographic transmitters, well hidden from view. As Rose sucked on the last energy packet, he dismantled the device.
He dawdled over the sonic field. Not because it was particularly complicated. A sonic field generator only required a power source, a paper clip, a copper coin and a reverberation razor. The razor, a primitive sonic device, culled from the courtesy supplies in the bathroom, was a disposable one, which meant their protection was a one-shot zapper. But once he’d boosted the signal, he felt confident it would deliver a nasty shock. Still, he kept checking his work. He just didn’t know what to say to Rose. She had curled into a fetal pose on the bed, silently watching him. He had no idea what she was thinking. And he was afraid to ask.
Finally, she broke the silence. “I’ve missed watching you putter,” she said.
He lit up inside. Feeling fizzy, he turned, beaming his best smile at her. “I've missed you watching.”
“Did you?” She asked, a slight tremor in behind her words. “You and Donna? Traveling the universe with your equal...at long last...did you miss me?”
Guilt wilted his smile. “Donna?” he said, stalling for time. The waves of depression threatened to swamp him again. He remembered how clueless Donna had been about her coming fate and what she'd told Rose before they parted. He had processed Donna's remarks as symptoms of her illness. And never even considered the effect they might have on Rose. “Donna wasn’t--” His tongue stuck to his teeth as he ran out of saliva, inconvenient that. Should have expected his human body to react to his turmoil. His voice cracked. “Donna didn't make it. Her mind couldn't...that is, she…”
Rose sat up, swinging her feet around to the floor. “Donna’s dead? But...I thought...”
“No. Not dead. Exactly. I took her home. We didn't travel. We couldn't. The meta-crisis wasn't over when we left you. It doesn't stop until...well, it doesn't stop.”
“Tell me how it works,” Rose said.
“All biological material is converted. Donna was a conduit, for the process. She thought she was part of it, but she never was. She would have been absorbed into the new life. I had to destroy the link between them. But freeing her came at a cost. Her mind. She had to forget...everything. Everything she'd seen, learned—who she became, traveling with me. I took everything from her. By force.” His reasoning turned to pleading, as Donna's horror rekindled in Rose's face. “I had to. Can't you see that? It was the only way to stop the transfer, the only way to save her life.”
“You took her memory?”
“It was the only way,” he insisted. “One of us had to die. Just as Ka'an foretold. I couldn't let it be her. Not after losing you. Not after giving up…my own hopes, to save her, to save all of you. This,” he smacked his chest hard, “This abomination would have sucked the life out of her. All of my memories drained through her mind. She tried to hold on to them. There's never supposed to be two of me. Or three. I should have been dead at the start of it.” He wiped a bit of spittle from his lips. Calmed down a little. “A meta crisis claims a life for a life, usually from another Time Lord. Information is shared, genetic and intellectual. I thought if we left, if we sealed off this universe, if we cut the cord, it might stop the process. But, I couldn’t leave him here alone, could I? He was too dangerous. Imagine me, without you…born in battle, with human failings…”
“But you were without me. And you...you took Donna's mind?” She couldn't seem to believe it. Her brow furrowed as if she struggled to fathom his reasons.
“I had no choice.”
“You did. You could have let her die. I would rather die, than lose you like that. Did you ask her? Did you find out what she wanted...?”
“She couldn't be subjective, Rose. Not in the middle of the meta-crisis. You have to believe me. I had no choice! You had to stay. We had to go.” He stabbed a finger at the far wall, as if he could point toward another universe. “And then, it didn’t matter...our loss, my loss." He still hadn't come to grips with this, the cosmic joke at his expense. "Because the conversion process kept going, even across the void. And I truly hope that wasn't y-r—the plan. Donna wasn't herself. She wanted to keep going, to become me. And that desire was destroying her. So, I stopped it. And then, I took her home. Told her family to forget me, too. Never to mention me.”
Rose had stopped listening. Her skin had a ghostly pallor, perhaps from her illness, but he thought not. She stared out the window, not looking at him, not speaking. He watched her until the hopelessness burgeoning inside made him turn away. He couldn't bear her silent condemnation. She hated him. Just as Donna had hated him at the end, when he’d been inside her mind. There was no forgiving some things. He'd apologized, the whole time. But what did it matter? He'd ravaged her mind. It hardly helped if he said he was sorry for it. To his surprise, when Rose spoke again, she seemed to have changed the subject.
“Why did you say it was me?” Rose said. “My plan?”
“What?” He took a shaky breath and forced himself to look at her.
“You said, I created the human you, caused all of this. Why?”
He waved a hand. “I wasn't thinking clearly. Don't worry about...”
“Doctor,” she said, making his title a warning. She didn't want him to deceive her, coddle her.
He moved closer, held out his hand, palm up to entreat her.
“You are the only one I know who has that sort of power. That could have arranged so many coincidences." Even as he said this, he acknowledged the oversimplification with a dip of his head and a slight squint. "Or, I should say, the only one who would have cared enough to arrange them. The Old Ones could have managed it. The TARDIS has enough power. But the TARDIS can't initiated a meta-crisis on her own. She would never think to attempt it, unless I'd been physically compromised, blown apart or the like. If I was injured beyond repair, her automatic systems might try to salvage me. But she would need instructions from my subconscious, even then.”
Tossing his hands up, he dismissed the idea of the TARDIS as a mastermind. “She might want to save me. But, I was alive and well, standing just outside her. I gave no orders. Someone...? Something convinced her to create this body. She either believed this hand and the residual energy was all that was left of me...or...she wanted me archived like this. Maybe the aborted regeneration alarmed her, but…that wouldn't explain the initiative.”
He sorted through his impressions of what happened, before and after he was shot down by that Dalek.
“And then, you sent me word. Two words: Bad Wolf. You know what that means.”
“Words to lead me back to you.”
“And I saw them, printed everywhere, on the TARDIS door. The TARDIS door, Rose! A warning from you, across time and space. I thought it meant the universe was breaking down, but, that was faulty reasoning, because...how could you, a purely human you, send the words? And that was only the beginning. Someone closed the TARDIS door, trapping Donna inside. Someone led Donna to me, not once but twice. And you were there the second time.” He framed his eyes with both hands. Fingers spread wide. “I can see you in the vestiges of her memories. And her grandfather met me, too. There were psychic portents. He will knock four times. Someone had to guide Dalek Ka'an, help him in the Time Vortex. He went mad, of course. But he found Davros, who created an engine to fractured the universe, and there aren't too many beings that could do that.”
Rose laughed, a rattling, bitter sound. “If I could manipulate the universe, don't you think I would have come back, years ago?”
“It doesn't work that way. You aren't acting consciously. We are on a path, you created, oh, so long ago. A path weaving through time and space and alternative realities. All of this was set in motion, before my ninth regeneration. Do you remember coming back for me the first time, on Satellite Five?”
“Some of it. I was home. And I saw those words," Brow furrowed in concentration, she formed the name with her lips, but didn't utter it aloud, "Bad Wolf." A second later, her face smoothed into blank bewilderment, as she went on with her recollection, "I looked into the TARDIS. And the TARDIS looked into me. There was singing.”
“You looked into the Time Vortex,” he said, settling himself at the very corner of the bed, careful not to crowd her. “Nobody is meant to do that. To see all of those variables in time and space. All of those futures and pasts and alternatives. On Gallifrey, my home world, there is an untempered schism, a sort of window onto the time vortex.”
“You told me. That's what made you a Time Lord.”
“Yes. But, it is more complicated than that.” He closed his eyes as he thought back to his childhood trials. How to explain his culture, succinctly? “My people evolved in a sea of Artron energy. It helped to create us. The TARDIS coral evolved swimming in and out of the schism. They are like our dolphins, a different type of intelligence on our world. Eventually, a few of my people, those who carry the regenerate DNA, were able to tolerate the full spectrum of temporal fires, untempered, for a few minutes. It is like being God. We see the shape of our infinite futures.” He opened his eyes and met hers as he said, “We can create ourselves.”
“Sounds horrible,” Rose said.
“It is. Nobody should play God. And, I've tried, since we last met. But that's another story, for another time. My point is, we were exposed to the schism as children. To see if we could be Time Lords. Some go mad. Some run away.”
“You ran,” Rose said and her certainty arrested his attention for a moment. Had he told her that?
This body was given to shivering. The hairs stood up on his arms. He rubbed his hands together, briskly, wondering if there was a way to close the window. Night was falling.
Finally, he decided Rose's knowledge wasn't a threat to him. He nodded, simply accepted her knowing. “I did. But I stayed long enough to qualify for training. You, on the other hand, let the Vortex run through you. You just opened up your head and heart and lived with it. Only a TARDIS can do that. Maybe that’s the key, an open heart. My people were after glory and you were just…trying to help me.”
“Save you. I wanted to save you,” Rose said, in a dreamy tone. Her eyes lost focus. She stared at, through, the far wall. “The TARDIS wanted that, too.”
“Yes!” He touched her hand, drawing her attention back to him. “I believe you mapped out a path through time and space. And you told her about it. A way to keep me safe, deliver me here. Archiving is one of the primary functions of a TARDIS. She would have understood I was about to regenerated on Satellite Five. She's temporally transcendent. When a Time Lord regenerates, his TARDIS helps him survive the process. She sifts through his memories, copies and transfers them to the new host body. Sometimes it takes a week or more to sort out the personalities. And then, she is programmed to archive anything the new persona doesn't need. But she couldn’t do that with the MATRIX locked away from her. My previous self, born in battle, carried his predecessor with him, just as I carried on the...attachments and passions of my former selves. I am essentially a three-fold man. I think the TARDIS couldn't cope. But, you, you might have shown her a way.”
Rose sighed, her head dropping forward. “I don’t remember doing that,” she said, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “When I try to, it is like a bright curtain in my mind. Fire and fear and pain. I can't look past it. I had a need to save you. Because you are important to...all that is, all that was…”
“All that ever will be,” he said it with her.
“I understand that, now,” she said, lifting her chin until their lines of sight intersected. “When I was traveling on my own, jumping from one alternative reality to another, I could see how “what will be” changed. Now, I know why you don't like to say much. How a single word or decision can change everything. Donna turned right and everything unraveled. She had to turn left.”
“Did you make her?”
“I…explained. I told her what to do. How to change her life.” Tears filled her eyes. “She would always--die.”
“Yes. That's what I saw, too. Her path kept circling back to the same end. And I couldn't take it.” He inched closer. “But she's fine, now, Rose. Can you see that?”
Rose shook her head, just slightly. “No. How?”
“I died. At last. And the TARDIS exploded. I'm sure the meta-crisis stopped at that point, because the polarity reversed. When I was pulled or pushed across to this dimension, finally archived, Donna would have been set free.”
Shame gnawed at him as he recalled his childish reaction. He had been furious when he'd realized he would be the one to die. He'd raged against fate, with Donna's Grandfather looking on. But he'd accepted it at last. It wasn't his finest moment. On the other hand, nobody likes to be manipulated. And he could feel the teeth of the Wolf biting into him, at that moment, when Wilf had knocked four times. He'd imagined, simply ending. He hadn't realized she would archive him, not until the TARDIS exploded.
Rose clutched at his forearm. “Donna's alive? With all her memories?”
“Oh, yes. Fine. Sorted.” Happy to process this bit of good news himself, he took a moment to savor the thought. “I see no reason why she wouldn't be restored, once I stopped exerting my influence in that dimension,” he said. Then, he grimaced as another thought occurred. “Mind you. She might be getting a divorce.”
“She's married?”
“Yep. Simple-minded chap. Reminded me of Mickey. Harmless enough.” Before Rose could do more than poke him, he asked, “What was it like? Traveling across alternatives?”
“Terrifying,” she said. “And amazing. And...lonely. I've seen things...”
Oh, that made his heart ache. He understood it so well. They had so much in common. Nobody had ever looked at him like Rose. She saw the man he wanted to be. She laughed at his jokes. She wanted to make the universe better. Fix it, like she'd fixed him. Of course, they'd both made mistakes. A twinge of regret for his own meddling, tempered his pride in hers. Odd how poignant, how rich those feelings were now. Fear and pride and tenderness and awe...all mixed together. He wanted to console Rose, even as he cheered her on. They were quite the pair.
“I couldn't really talk to anyone. I'd meet Mum or Mickey or Jack...in a parallel world...and they'd just...look straight through me. I was a stranger to them. And I knew things, terrible things. I had to let them make mistakes that I knew would cost them everything. Right turns. Wrong turns. Say the wrong word in the right ear and the whole world fractures. Its just so much pressure. I could see it happening in the dimension cannon, over and over again.”
“Doesn't it just drive you mad?” he asked, the same question he'd asked her Bad Wolf self.
“Completely. I knew...well, I'd seen, all of this brilliant stuff, yeah? And I couldn't share it with anyone. Just like when I traveled with you, only...”
“Then, we had each other,” he said. His hand covered both of hers, caressing her fingers.
“This time, I had no one. It was always a relief to find Donna, to tell her about you, to work on a project with her. Even though...”
“You couldn't save her. We were linked together in every dimension. All of the time lines went through her,” he said, putting it together in his head. “There was only one way out for her, because we were supposed to end up here.”
“Pregnant?” Rose asked, one hand pulling away from his grip and drifting upward to settle over her bellybutton.
“Oh, I don't know.” Exasperation made him restless. He stood up suddenly, pacing. “I thought that was part of your grand plan. But since you don't remember having a plan, we have no real information. Maybe it was the TARDIS, giving me a family, again, or...it is nothing more than a side effect.”
“Some side effect.” Rose tilted her head bacK to look at him. “What do we do about it? I mean, its alright for Mum to say, get me to a real doctor, but where do we find one who can fix this? Can you fix it?”
“Of course, I can.” He stopped before her and took her by the shoulders, drawing her to her feet, and then into his arms. Hugging her tight, he said, “Maybe you hate me now. I understand that, but...”
She pushed away from him. “I don't hate you. How could I?”
He brought a hand up between them and counted off his sins with his fingers. “I left you behind. Broke my promises. Hurt Donna. That was completely unforgivable."
"And partly my fault, if I set us on this path. I never should have let you leave. I..."
He laughed. She has such confidence in her power over him. "You tried to stop me. And I didn't want to go, or come here, in the end. But, you listen to me, Rose Tyler. I won't let you die. Even if it means...” He didn't want to say it. His lips clamped closed.
“What?”
“Even if it means terminating them.”
“Terminating?” She inhaled sharply and her voice took on a desperate edge. “But you can't. They are part of you. Part of us, yeah?”
“I won't lose you. Not again.”
“It won't come to that.” She stepped in close and gently stroked a hand up the back of his upper arm. “You'll see. We'll figure something out.”
He wanted to believe in her. But he needed to make his position crystal clear. Locking his gaze on hers, he gritted his teeth, so his breath hissed between them. He let the fire of firm purpose burn in his eyes. Emperors crossed him at their peril. He wasn't about to be pushed around by the whims of one little Earth girl. But Rose didn't flinch. She just stared at him, all impassive defiance, until his resolve faltered. And his belief in their legendary prowess rebounded. To his own amazement, as he relaxed into a more carefree stance, his mind cleared. A plan or two began to take shape.
“Yes, of course, we will,” he heard himself saying, and wondered what sort of magic she used on him. Just for a second, his suspicions returned, but he set them quickly aside. Rose was Rose, no sense trying to work out how she managed to cajole him into Christmas dinners and the like. “As a matter of fact,” He flicked his fingertips at his temples to indicate all of his recent mental activity and gave her a wag of the brow. “I have a few ideas brewing.”
The pink tip of her tongue appeared at the corner of her wolfish smile. “Care to share?”
“I think I might,” he said, leaning ever so gently in to bump her shoulder. “I believe, that is, I'm fairly certain I can modify your energy signal. Take you off the radar for a bit.”
“Buy us more time,” Rose nodded. “Good idea. And...if you can make my mum's phone work,” She fumbled for the mobile, she'd secured from Jackie and handed it to him, “We might, I don't know, summon help, even jump off this planet.”
“Now, that! That I would love. What I wouldn't do with a dimension cannon about now,” he said, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Never mind the lectures on temporal refractory curves and infinitesimal fissures in the fabric of your personal reality. Pop us all back to Earth. And Bob's your Uncle. We'd have you fit for duty in no time.”
“Right then, get busy. And while you are tinkering, tell me about this Scourge. How did they get here? Where could they be hiding?” She half-pushed, half-dragged a cushion toward the window. “How do we stop them? I'm going to consider the lay of the land.”
“They're in the Hatchery,” he told her, indicating direction with a tip of his head, as his hands kept busy on the phone. “That square structure to the East. Well guarded. The trick will be getting past security. I've worked out a couple of ways to do that.”
Rose laughed, dipping her head so her hair spilled across her face. “Yeah, you are quite handy,” she said.
A sense of contentment bloomed in his chest and he sidled closer to her. The warm approval in her voice set his world right again. Rose still cared for him. Everything was going to be fine. He would learn to get along in this new body. He could use an operator's manual, but he'd manage. They would sort this mess out and, once they did, once Rose was safe...then...then...images of Rose bombarded him, like a slide-show in his head. He thought about her touching him, smiling at him, laughing along with him. He would bump her shoulder. No. He would hold her, oh, so close. The memory of her delicious musky aroma filled his mind, crowding out reason. He thought about kissing her, tangling his fingers in her hair. They could lie down together on the bed, and...
A hot prickle raced along his arms and up his legs. Blood flowed into his bowels. He glanced down, looking for some injury. But he felt fine, relaxed and, yet, ready for action. He stilled. Head cocked to one side, he considered the sudden desire he had to touch himself, to stroke a palm across his belly and relieve this increasing tension. Right now. Rose said something, but he missed it, preoccupied. A liquid heaviness grew in his gut, triggering a swelling sensation in his pants. A stiffening. What the...? Turgidness? Now? Talk about inappropriate reactions. Rose couldn't get anymore pregnant. Not, he recalled, that it mattered, because humans didn't observe mating seasons. But, she certainly wasn't in the mood. Nor was he, come to that. He couldn't even imagine where to begin. Although, he could begin by removing her jacket. Or his. His seemed quite constricting. But, no. Of all the ridiculous times to prepare for sex. In the middle of this crisis? Really? Oh, how he hated this body.
End This Part
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Date: 2013-04-24 07:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-24 07:41 pm (UTC)