A/N: This is a revision/rewrite of "Seeking the Storm". The basic plot is still the same, but I've made some changes based on ideas I had. Some chapters will appear with only slight edits; other will never be seen again. Some may be completely rewritten.
There is no schedule for this work; rather, it'll be updated as the muse allows, as is the case with "Heroes of London". "She Who Dreams" and sequels are my main priority.
Disclaimer: All recognizable plot, characters, settings, and dialogue belongs to the BBC. I am not making any money off of this. The original characters and overall plot of this fic belongs to me.
Some dialogue taken from s2e13 "Doomsday".
Rule Number One: Rose Tyler Lies
"Five an' a half hours," Rose demanded through her tears. "He said to always wait five-an-a-half hours, Mum. He'll come for me, he will!" She stared at the white, white wall in front of her as though she could will the object of her patience into existence.
"Rose," Pete interjected softly, "the breach is closed. The hoppers aren't working anymore. I'm sorry, but—"
"You don' know 'im!" Rose cried, sobbing fiercely now. "He promised!"
"I'll stay with her, boss," Mickey said quietly, moving forward to wrap his arms around his once-girlfriend. "Bring her to the mansion when she's ready. You take Jackie, get her settled in."
"Thanks," Pete said wearily. "C'mon, Jacks, let's give Rose some space."
"Thanks, Mick," Rose whispered into his shoulder.
Six hours later, Mickey gently tugged her away from the wall. "Rose, you need to get some sleep."
"But what if he comes an' 'm not here?" she asked, genuinely terrified. "What if he leaves again? Thinks I don' want to come back?"
"We'll leave him a note," Mickey said, even as he longed to tell her that there was no point.
So they did.
"Why can't you just be happy here?" Jackie yelled, two weeks later. "We've got everything we could possibly need!"
"This isn't my life anymore, mum!" Rose answered, matching Jackie's volume. "Stuck on the slow path, day-to-day, I can't do this now that I've seen what's out there! An'—I love him, mum, don't you get it?"
"Rose," Pete called from the living room, where he'd been very pointedly not listening, "We need to go into Torchwood to get your identity sorted out. Jackie's was simple, but it's going to be more difficult with you."
"This isn't finished," Jackie said ominously, as Rose exited the kitchen.
They'd settled on the backstory of Rose being kept secret, enrolled in tiny, out-of-the-way boarding schools, to keep her life away from the media. It wasn't the most soundproof story, but with Torchwood and the president—one Harriet Jones—behind her, the public accepted it quickly.
She went to work at Torchwood, despite her deep loathing of the place, because it was the closest she could get to her old life, and Pete needed her experience.
It was just under a month after Canary Wharf, when, while at work, Rose felt something, a tingle in her mind, like when she and the Doctor had made love. The nausea she'd been feeling off and on suddenly clicked, and she froze, eyes widening, as she realized.
"Rose?" Mickey asked. "Somethin' wrong?"
"Outside, now," she whispered faintly.
"What is it?" he asked, following her.
"Mickey, I think I'm pregnant."
"You and the Doctor?"
"Yeah," she said, her eyes falling to her feet. "Mick, what'm I gonna do?"
Mickey frowned, likely coming to the same conclusions she had. "You can't trust Torchwood with this, babe. If word gets out to the wrong people…"
"I know. 'M not stupid. D'you know anyone who you trust?" Rose asked quietly.
Owen Harper was abrasive and standoffish, but he was a respected doctor at Torchwood and, more importantly, could be trusted to keep her secret. And he did. The lack of precedent for a human-Gallifreyan pregnancy was a problem, but Owen helped her through it.
Well, sort of.
He could keep her and her child's bodies healthy, but her mind was a different story. About three months into her self-proclaimed exile in this universe, just before she was starting to show, she woke up to the Doctor's voice whispering in her head.
She turned, taking in the beach, the rocks, the grey sky overhead. Fitting, although she dared to allow herself to hope that the Doctor was going to be able to come and get her. Rescue her from this living hell; the only thing she was thankful for was that the bond hadn't been completed yet.
Rose didn't think she could live with the agony of the severing of minds that the Doctor had explained to her, back on Krop Tor where he'd finally given into his desires.
"Rose."
She turns, straining for the familiar-as-breathing groan of the TARDIS, only to see a faint, flickering projection of the man she loves more than the universe. She feels her heart shatter again as she realized—this wasn't a rescue.
It was goodbye.
"Where are you?" she gets out, her voice cracking—already!
"In the TARDIS," he answers, his voice shaky as well, but holding it together better than she.
He always was better about hiding his emotions.
"There's one tiny little gap in the Universe left, just about to close, and it takes a lot of power to send this projection. I'm in orbit around a super nova. I'm burning up a sun just to say goodbye." He manages a trembling laugh, and Rose feels her eyes begin to burn with the tears.
"You look like a ghost," she whimpers faintly.
"Hold on," he tells her, a shadow of his former confidence leaking through. This, at least, is something he can fix. He sonics something, the console she assumes, and solidifies.
He looks so close.
Sod it. She lifts a hand, unable to comprehend that he can be so close to her and yet so very far away. "Can I— "
"I'm still just an image," the Doctor says softly, sadly, his eyes filling with sorrow and pain. "No touch."
For someone as tactile as this Doctor, she's sure it is utter agony.
"Can't you come through properly?" she questions, feeling the tears start to fall.
"The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse."
She loves him more than two universes.
"So?"
He laughs weakly, staring hungrily at her as though he's a starving man and she's a feast, one he can't reach.
It is an apt description.
"Where are we? Where did the gap come out?" the man she loves asks, and the curiosity tells her he's trying, he's trying.
"We're in Norway."
"Norway. Right," he says, trying to sound as though of course, I knew we would be here.
"About fifty miles out of Burgen. It's called Darlig Ulv Stranden," she responds, fumbling slightly over the words, though not badly, considering how she could hardly pronounce 'Raxicoricofallipatorious' but two years ago. The baby's changing her, changing her brain, and it's far easier to learn languages, math, science—anything, really—now.
"Dalek?" the Doctor exclaims.
"Dar-lig," she stresses. "Norwegian for Bad. This translates as Bad Wolf Bay."
She sees his surprise, the slight worry there. Chooses to ignore it in favor of other, more pressing matters. "How long have we got?"
"About two minutes."
It feels like a death blow, and she struggles for air, her mind going blank. "I can't think of what to say!"
"You've still got Mister Mickey, then?"
And here's her opening. "There's five of us now. Mum, Dad, Mickey… and the baby."
"You're not?" There's hope lighting up his eyes, but also pain and fear and guilt and she knows, she knows that he'd tear apart universes without conscious thought to get to his child.
So she lies.
"No. It's mum. She's three months gone. More Tylers on the way," and there's a ghost of a smile on her face, she knows, and she sees relief on his face, relief but sorrow, and she knows he wishes it was her.
It makes her insides curdle with guilt, but after all, they'll have to come up with a cover story for this baby, and why not this one?
"And what about you?" he asks after a moment. "Are you— "
She wants to lighten the moment. "Yeah, I'm back to working in the shop."
"Oh." There's a slight pause, and she sees the disappointment on his face. "Good for you."
"Shut up," she says with a tearful laugh. "No, 'm not. There's still a Torchwood on this planet. It's open for business. I think I know a thing or two about aliens."
He chuckles somberly, but she can tell he's slightly surprised. She wants to tell him about how much she loathes it, but how it's the closest she can get to the stars, and that's where she's meant to be, dancing among the stars with him—and their child. But the words stick in her throat, choking her, and the moment passes.
"Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. You're dead, officially, back home. So many people died that day and you've gone missing. You're on a list of the dead. Here you are, living a life day after day. The one adventure I can never have," he says, smiling at her.
"Am I ever gonna see you again?" she cries, finally losing the battle with her tears.
"You can't." It's so short, simple, and it shocks her to the core. Sod the universes! She thinks fiercely, immediately set on proving him wrong. She's got to.
"What're you gonna do?"
"Oh, I've got the TARDIS. Same old life, Last of the Time Lords."
"On your own?" He's rubbish on his own, he can't be on his own. "I— " she pauses, her tears getting in the way of her speech. Takes a deep breath. "I love you."
"Quite right, too," he whispers with a tiny, tiny smile.
Please, please, I need to hear you say it, she thinks desperately. Not knowing what she'll do if he doesn't. She knows it's hard for him, but—she needs to hear him. Needs the affirmation of his feelings.
"And I suppose," he starts off, getting her attention, "if it's my last chance to say it, Rose Tyler— "
The projection fades, and he's gone.
Rose Marion Tyler falls to the sand and sobs as what little fragment was left of her heart vaporizes, dissolves, unable to handle this last stressor. As Jackie tries futilely to comfort her, a single thought echoes endlessly in Rose's mind.
He didn't say it.
They went with the cover story Rose had inadvertently created when speaking to the Doctor, and both Tyler women began appearing less and less frequently in public as well as in Torchwood. After the baby was born, Rose immediately went back, but she was changed in more ways than one.
Smarter, faster… There were other changes, she was sure, but whether they came from Bad Wolf—which she was starting to remember—or were from the baby, she didn't know.
As the years passed, Tony grew older and smarter, and Rose became aware of a danger more real and deadly than any she'd ever faced.
Rose Tyler was a dead woman walking.