Title: Fathers and Sons
Author: Gail R. Delaney
Series: The Unseen and In Between
Setting: After Fear Her
Genre: Romance, Angst
Rating: PG-13 overall
Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.
Summary: "I was a dad once." He answered her questions when she asked them, but Rose still never understood what he was really said until he was ready to open the door. The final story of the man known as The Doctor is both beautiful and tragic, but the greatest beauty is in the telling.
Follow up to Everything Rose Wanted to Know about Time Lords, and Apparently Wasn't Afraid to Ask.
Excerpt in first section from Tardis Lullabye within the Unseen and In Between series.
A/N: I use canon, I bend canon, I interpret canon my own way and I add just a tick of my own fanon to make it all work.
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You're avoiding Precious Rose.
"No, I'm not. Don't be ridiculous."
He retrieved a wire pincer from the edge of the console. Before he could pull the bundle of wires that were his intended target from beneath the console edge, a circuit sparked, sending him scrambling out again.
Yes, you are. Yes, you are.
The Doctor scowled and stood, tossing the pincer on the console. "I am not. You know, I think I liked you much better before you decided that everything I say or do is open to your scrutiny."
Precious Rose is not sleeping.
"Thank you," he snapped. "I wondered." He didn't care if he was being rude, the TARDIS was being pushy. Had been poking and nudging at him since they'd come back from the Games.
You're avoiding.
"Stop it!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the convex walls of the console room.
He snatched up the spare Quadratic Emitter from the top of the console, holding it against his chest to twist the circuit cover loose. The TARDIS remained silent for a solid seven-point-three-six minutes.
You opened the door.
"I know."
Are you ready?
Giving up on the emitter, he set it down and went to the jump seat, sinking heavily into the worn cushions. He scrubbed his face with his palms, groaning. "No. Yes!" he snapped out, contradicting himself. "No. Hell, I don't know."
Her scolding push softened, and he felt the TARDIS wrap around him in an embrace. He closed his eyes and let his head drop to the back of the jump seat.
I can help. Show Clever Rose. Let her see.
"No," he said, rolling his head on the seat back. "I need to do it." The Doctor inhaled a deep breath, and felt some of the tightness in his chest release as he accepted in his head what his hearts already knew. He did need to do this, but more than that, he wanted to do it. He wanted Rose to know… not just anyone… Rose.
Rose woke from the uneasy, fitful sleep that had kept her tossing and turning for hours in the large, empty bed. With a heavy sigh, she slid her hands across the smooth sheets to touch his pillow. The surface was smooth, untouched by him.
She unfolded her legs and slid off the bed, picking up one of the Doctor's discarded shirts to slip over her tank. It smelled like him – spice, amber and space. Rose left the sleeves unbuttoned, rolling them until they just cleared her wrists, and wrapped the shirt around her. Barefoot, she padded across the bedroom and into the hall.
A low fire burned in the library fireplace, and a memory from what seemed like a lifetime ago, slid over her. The first night she'd found the library… and found him sitting by the fire.
Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling and corner-to-corner, and books filled every available inch. Leather bound tomes four inches thick to thin paperback novels, stacked back to back. A fireplace sat on the far wall, the front face spreading at least eight feet across, with a fire glowing behind blackened metal mesh. The aroma filled the air, and wrapped around her.
A tall-backed leather chair sat facing the fire, and if it weren't for his leg hanging over the arm, she wouldn't have known he was there.
"You should be sleeping, Rose."
His voice was heavy, wrapping around her, drawing her to him. Rose crossed the space and rounded the chair to look down at him. The Doctor slouched down in the chair, his elbows on the chair arms with his fingers steepled in front of his lips. His eyes darted up, and she saw the flames of the fire reflect in them as his gaze quickly shifted over her. His leather jacket was gone, and his jumper was the beautiful dark blue one she liked on him. It brought out the color of his eyes.
"So should you, don't you think?"
His eyes lowered again and he stared past her to the fire. "I don't sleep. Much."
Rose sat down on the wide leather ottoman in front of his chair, tucking her hands between her knees. They sat silent, listening to the crackle of the fire behind her, and Rose watched the shadow of the flames dance across his face. The Doctor lowered his arm and extended it to her, hand open and palm up. She scooted to the edge of the ottoman and covered his hand with hers, squeezing gently.
Rose stood on the staircase landing, looking down on the massive library space. The same high-back chair sat near the fire, but tonight she saw one of his white trainers extended at the end of a long leg. Rose crossed her arms over her body, tugging the shirt tighter around her, and took the right staircase down into the library.
He looked up at her as she walked around the chair, and automatically reached out his hand. Rose squeezed his long fingers and bent over to kiss him, just a short touch of lips to lips. The Doctor reached out a foot and hooked it around the leg of the nearby ottoman, dragging it closer to the big chair. Rose smiled again, feeling another wave of nostalgia. She sat in the middle of the ottoman, folding her legs in front of her.
"Hello," he said softly, and she loved the way he smiled. Genuine… happy that she had come to share his space with him.
"You plannin' on sitting up all night?"
He drew a deep breath, releasing it through his nose. "No. I was coming along soon. Just…" He finished with a shrug.
His gaze shifted down and she saw a book nestled in the space between his leg and the side of the chair, as if he'd been looking at it but shoved it there when he was done. It didn't look like a novel, some of the pages seemed spaced apart as if something with thickness was sandwiched between. Like a scrap book or photograph album. She wanted to ask what it was, but knew it would lead to more questions - and beyond "So, you were a dad once..." - which seemed too abrupt.
She looked over her shoulder at the fire, inhaling deeply of the applewood. It smelled gorgeous, infusing her with comfort and ease.
"Gwendolyn," he finally said, pulling her attention back. His voice was heavy, rough... strained. "Lorelei. And Corin. Those were their names — or, the closest translation in English I can offer. My children." He cleared his throat, but his gaze was level with hers and he didn't look away.
A weight sat in the center of Rose's chest, but she wasn't sure how to define it. Whether it was grief for him, for the pain in his eyes, or pride and gratitude that he shared their names with her. Maybe it was both.
"They're beautiful names." She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to tamp down the sting in her eyes. "Wh-what was their mother's name?"
He drew in a breath through his open lips, the air hissing softly through his teeth and curled his fingers into the arm of the chair as he released her name. "Mara." His eyes shifted upward to look into some dark corner of the library ceiling. A single tear slid down his cheek.
But, he wasn't ready to stop and wasn't ready to take comfort. She wasn't touching him, but she'd opened her mind to him enough to sense that. Rose needed to be closer to him, so she slid across the smooth leather of the ottoman to sit near his knees. His gaze came back to her, his eyes shining with the flames from the fire.
"She wasn't a Time Lord." He shook his head. "She was Gallifreyan." He nodded, swallowing hard. "Were you married to her during your first... " She stumbled over the right word. "Your first life?"
The Doctor sniffed loudly, running his hand across his face. "Yes. We married while I was still training." He chuckled, but the humor was lost in the tone. "Wasn't the first time I'd angered the Cardinals, but I'd never seen them quite that infuriated before. I was young..." His voice crackled and his brow pulled down tight over his eyes. "So very young."
Rose reached out and took his hand, and his grip tightened on her fingers, almost desperate. She smiled, and a shuddered breath shifted through him. "Tell me about them?"
"Are you sure you want to hear?"
She nodded. "I'd be so proud if you told me."
His expression brightened, and even though his eyes still shined bright, he smiled. Still holding her hand, he stood, and drew her off the ottoman. He retrieved the book from where it had slipped between the cushions in the chair and led her to the couch. A tall light with a tasseled shade stood behind the sofa, and he reached behind them to turn it on as they sat. The glow was soft, spreading out in a circle around the space. The Doctor sat in the corner of the couch and she nestled into the space beside him. With a slightly less than steady hand, he opened the book.
She had been right. It was a photograph album, but the photographs looked so much different than the ones she was accustomed to on Earth. Digital imagery held nothing to the exquisite detail, color and depth of the images. They almost looked three-dimensional, like if she reached out to touch one her hand would slip into whatever moment had been captured.
The first picture was of a young man and woman, and if Rose had to put a human age to them, she'd say no more than their mid-twenties. His hair was so fair it appeared almost white and he was attractive in an average man sort of way. Nothing exceptional, but he was handsome. The woman was beautiful, with rich brown hair and elegant features.
"Is this you?" she asked, pointing to the image. She looked up at him, smiling... trying to see some remnants of his first face in the one he had now. The high angle of the cheekbones might be the same, but other than that, nothing else remained. "Your hair is so blonde! It's almost white."
"It turned white eventually, before I regenerated."
He turned the page and there were more photographs of them together, sometimes alone and sometimes with others. And then there was an image of Mara alone, her cheeks stained pink with embarrassment as she stood sideways, her stomach protruding with an unborn child. Rose's throat tightened as she remembered what he had told her not long ago... that this could never be a reality for them.
"She's beautiful," Rose managed to say, proud of herself that the small wave of heartache didn't come through in her voice. "You both look really, really happy."
"We were. Probably too happy. I forgot that it wouldn't last." He turned the pages again, and showed her picture after picture of his family, and as they went further into the album, the family grew.
Two girls and a boy, and in almost every picture, the children were in some state of climbing their father - the Doctor. They hung off his shoulders, or sat in his lap, or clung to his legs. One of the girls was as blonde as her father, and her curls hung down her back in long, thick ringlets. That was Gwendolyn, he told her. Lorelei had dark hair, like her mother, and brooding eyes in a pale blue. The eyes reminded her of the first face she ever loved.
"Can I ask you a question?"
His arm had slipped behind her as they both leaned over the album, and his hand stroked up her spine when he looked at her. The tension had eased around his eyes the more he talked about his family, and it no longer emanated from him like a buffer field. "Of course."
"Genetics... how does that work? If you are a different person, what, thirteen times in your life? When you... if you... have children... do they have just the DNA of that body or..."
"It's complicated, but in essence, the potential of every body I will have is engrained in me from birth. The strongest is whatever body I am in, which is probably where Gwendolyn got her hair..." He smiled, looking down at the pictures. "But, other bits can bleed through. Why?"
Rose touched the edge of the picture with Lorelei. "She has your eyes. Your previous eyes."
Corin, the only boy and the youngest, she couldn't place at all. A mass of unruly curls in bright red with dark green eyes and freckles. Rose laughed. "He has your freckles! And look... ginger. There's hope for you yet, Doctor."
He laughed and more of the painful buffer around him eased away. Rose couldn't deny the sudden urge to hug him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn't hesitate to hug her, holding on tight for several minutes. When she pulled away, she touched his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Tell me more?"
The Doctor smiled and nodded, focusing again on the album. "My boy was the only one to join the Academy. Because they weren't Loomed, there was no guarantee that I would pass on the necessary regeneration gene."
Rose sat now with the album open in her lap, and the Doctor looked over her shoulder to point out different things in different photos. The images progressed on until Mara was gray, and her face showed the signs of progressing age. There was some aging on the Doctor, but not to the same degree. They were surrounded by the adult versions of their children, and what appeared to be the next generation. Men now stood with Gwendolyn and Lorelei, and small children sat on the ground or in laps. Lorelei held a baby in her arms, and stood behind the Doctor, her eyes intent on her father.
Corin, now a grown man with his curls tamed but still definitely ginger, stood on the edge of the group with his expression subdued and his eyes stern. Something about the way he stood apart, and the rigidity of his body, made Rose sad. He wasn't the bright eyed, smiling boy that had clung to his father and laughed with his freckled face turned to the sun.
"That's what the Academy does to you if you let it," the Doctor explained, his voice dropping again, losing some of the lightness of moments before. "It takes the life from you. They teach you to be emotionless, to be analytical and dull. To observe, and not be involved. It killed me to see them suck him dry."
Rose watched his face as he spoke, and shook her head. "I can't see you like that. You didn't let it happen."
"Probably why I married. It was one more thing they told me I couldn't do, couldn't be... and I refused to live with a stick up my arse."
Rose snorted, trying to stifle her laughter. Such a statement coming from him seemed so out of place. He smiled, and she knew he had at least partially said it to get her to smile. She curled into him as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and laid her forehead against the side of his throat. The album balanced now between them and Rose ran her fingertip along the family photograph. "I like this one. I think we should, I don't know, hang it or something."
"Really?"
She nodded against his skin. "Yeah. Just cuz it was a long time ago doesn't mean it shouldn't be remembered." Rose drew back so she could see his face and he turned his head to look at her. She skimmed her gaze over his features, smiling at the tiny freckles that dotted his skin. From just standing distance, they were almost unnoticeable, but this close, she loved to pick out each one. "Hang it. And maybe someday you can hang a picture of me, too."
His eyes darkened and Rose immediately regretted saying anything. It was the silent truth between them... no matter how long she stayed, someday he would not have her beside him. Tears pricked at her eyes, but before they could pool, she closed the space between their lips and kissed him — just pressing her mouth to his to keep either of them from saying anything more.
She broke free and nestled her forehead against his neck again before he saw her eyes and managed to sniffle only softly. "When did you start traveling? You didn't travel then, did you?"
His hand curled around her far shoulder and he pulled her tighter to him for just a moment before turning his attention back to the album. "After Mara died. But, I didn't exactly leave with the permission of the Council."
Rose jerked back, remembering something from his journals. "Oh, I remember! This TARDIS... you stole her. You just took her and took off with her. Why did you have to steal her?"
"I needed to leave Gallifrey for a time." He touched the image, indicating the baby in Lorelei's arms. "This is Susan. My granddaughter."
Rose giggled softly. "You're a gramp."
The Doctor beamed. "Yes, I am and proud of it. Six times over."
She shook her head. "It amazes me, it really does. Okay... so this is Susan. What's she got to do with you leaving Gallifrey?"
Tiny lines pinched at the corners of the Doctor's eyes, and she knew whatever thoughts he had were not ones he wanted. "Susan was different. She couldn't stay there... on a planet that despised her for what she was — what I'd made her to be — so, it was my responsibility to take her away." His expression hardened, his lips leveling until there was no sign of the smile moments before. "The Council denied me, and so I did it myself."
"What was she? What could she be that would make them hate her?"
His eyes slid to her, and a muscle along his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth together. Finally, he parted his lips and drew in a breath. "Susan was human."