Title:

Until Silence Falls

Author:

The Prickly Pear

Genre:

Adventure / Friendship

Rating:

T

Summary:

Watching the Doctor walk away from his granddaughter's wedding, Wilfred Mott realized that he couldn't let the most wonderful man he's ever met die alone. AU from season 5 on.

Author's Note:

This is an idea I've been toying with for a while now, ever since I watched season 5 (which is more recently than I care to admit, I'm tragically late to the Doctor Who party, and still rather new to it…) It follows the events of the series which is part of the reason I didn't write it before now; I was afraid of simply retelling what we all saw on screen and boring you all to death. But then I started reading AshRain114's brilliant series (if you haven't read it, look it up) and I realized that maybe I could do this well enough that it would make me happy! So, here's the result. Yes, it follows the show, (for the first while at least) and yes that means a lot of the dialogue comes straight from the script but I promise there is a plot and there will be at least as much original content as script so please, give it a try!

The plot itself comes from my initial ideas (well, I say ideas, what I really mean are 'hopes') about the fifth season and a conversation I had with friend about the Doctor's regenerations. We were discussing the idea that the Ninth Doctor regenerated into the Tenth in a subconscious effort to make himself more desirable to Rose and it occurred to me that the same thing could be said about his regeneration from his Tenth to Eleventh forms if you consider that his last 'companion' was a man he was coming to see as a father figure and the Eleventh Doctor is the youngest and most child-like yet. Just my thoughts on the matter.

On a personal note, I'm a notoriously slow updater. I will try to get one new chapter up a week, probably on Saturday, but that may not always happen. If I know that the wait will be longer than a week, I will be sure let you know.

Anyway, you're not here to listen to me ramble so let's get on with it!

Disclaimer:

All characters you recognize are the property Doctor Who rightful owners. This fanfiction is written solely for my amusement, no money has been made whatsoever.

Happy Reading!

Chapter One

Making Do

When The Doctor appeared at Donna's wedding, still the same man and looking as healthy as anyone who had recently been exposed to massive amounts of radiation could be expected to, Wilfred honestly believed that everything was going to be alright. Maybe the radiation hadn't been as deadly as the Time Lord had thought or maybe he'd just got lucky but whatever the reason The Doctor was alive and the old human told him as much. They could move forward now, find a way to bring Donna's memory back safely, help The Doctor overcome what had obviously been a terrible experience for him and maybe, just maybe, he could stand amongst the stars one more time. He was so excited that he just couldn't stop talking, about the Naismiths, about the mysterious woman who'd spoken to him, about everything.

The Doctor (true to form) deflected the flurry of questions and information with a wedding gift bought with the pocket change of his late son-in-law. It was enough to push Sylvia to the brink of tears, with her father not far behind, and send them both back in Donna's direction with the present in hand and only the slightest inkling that they were doing precisely what the alien wanted.

"Oh, don't tell me, it's a bill. Just what I need, right now," the redhead grumbled loudly, accepting the gift with her trademark briskness and ripping it open, "A lottery ticket? What a cheap present. Who was that? Still, you never know. It's a triple rollover this week. I might get lucky." She began to walk away, tucking the ticket into the neck of her dress. "Oi, Shaun! Come on, we're on a tight schedule. Oxtail soup at two thirty…"

Wilfred and Sylvia exchanged looks of pure excitement, joining hands and jumping slightly because when a time traveler gives you a lottery ticket... But the excitement was short lived for as he turned back to see the Doctor off one last time, the old human got a good look at the pain on the alien's face and felt his gut freeze from the inside out. He'd been wrong. He'd been so very wrong. The Doctor really was going to die…

But not alone.

He was moving before he had a chance to process anything else, running (something he seemed to do a lot of around the Time Lord) across the lawn and towards the TARDIS as the wheezing, groaning sound of dematerialization reached his ears. He reached the door in what he gauged to be the nick of time, his hands making contact with the wooden panels in an attempt to stop his forward momentum. "Doctor!" he shouted as he pounded on the door for good measure, "Doc – "

Without warning the door swung open of its own accord and Wilfred all but fell into the ship. Righting himself with as much dignity as he could while still managing to avoid being struck by the door as it snapped shut behind him, the elderly man looked around, searching the console room for any sign of the Time Lord. What he saw made his heart sink even further than he'd ever thought possible; the Doctor was curled in a trembling ball against the base of the ship's console with his knees pulled up to his chest and his forehead pressed against them. Somewhere in the back of Wilf's mind it occurred to him that there was no way the alien was in any fit state to have allowed him entry, but he pushed the thought aside as something to be addressed another time and focused instead on his fallen friend.

The TARDIS gave a few violent jolts, her rough flight nearly knocking Wilfred off his feet as he made his way forward and crouched down next to the crumpled form despite his joints' protests. Without a word he reached out and pulled the Time Lord towards him gently, trying to convey silently that he was not alone. Not this time. Not anymore.

The moment he fell into the embrace, however, the Doctor's eyes flew opened and he scrambled away, using the console to haul himself to his feet despite the fact that his legs looked ready to give out on him. "Wilfred," he stared at the human with wide eyes, fighting visibly to get himself back under control, "What are you doing here? You can't be here! How did you even –"

"I'm not leavin'," said Wilf firmly, effective cutting the Time Lord off even as he followed his lead and clambered back to his feet, "I'm not leavin' you like this."

"I'm fine," came the expected protest.

The old human shook his head sadly. "You're dying, Doctor," he sighed, "And I'll be damned if I let you die alone."

They stared at each other for a long moment, the Doctor leaning against the console as discreetly as he could, until, quite suddenly, the TARDIS ceased all movement. Wherever the ship had been headed, they had arrived.

"Well go on then, where are we now?" Wilfred asked, forcing a smile he did not feel in the hope that it would get his friend talking.

But it was the alien's turn to shake his head as he reached out to touch his ship's controls gently, "What are you up to, Old Girl," he murmured softly, clenching his eyes shut as a wave of pain passed visibly through him before opening them once more with such forced energy that Wilf almost believed it. "Can't go looking right now, though. Gotta get Wilf home. It's his granddaughter's reception party, can't miss that. Donna will be at him about it for years..."

But enough was enough. As true as the statement about Donna was, Wilfred knew that he could handle her nagging if it meant that this man, this great, lonely man, got to die in the company of someone who cared about him. Turning on his heal he marched over to the TARDIS door, pulled it open and stepped outside. "C'mon Doctor, where are we? When are we? It's snowing…"

He made out the sound of a frustrated whimper from within the time machine before the Time Lord appeared behind him looking desperate. "Wilf, please…" he all but pleaded, his voice tapering off.

The old human turned around with every intention of arguing his case once more only to find that dying man's attention was not on him at all. Following his gaze Wilf's eyes fell upon two women, both blond and one oddly familiar, approaching from down the street.

"Rose…" the Doctor murmured.

"Rose? Rose Tyler?" No wonder he recognized one of them then, people met during a Dalek invasion weren't the sort of people who were easily forgotten.

But the Time Lord didn't respond. Instead he stumbled away from the shadow of his ship and limped across the street without either of the women seeing. Wilf considered following but Rose and the other woman were still approaching and he knew there was no way he'd make it unseen so he backed further into the shadows and watched the scene unfold from there.

"I'm late now," Rose was saying as they passed the TARDIS, "I've missed it. It's midnight. Mickey's going to be calling me everything. This is your fault."

"No, it's not. It's Jimbo. He said he was going to give us a lift, then he said his axle broke. I can't help it," the older woman replied defensively.

"Get rid of him, Mum. He's useless."

Mum? So this was Rose Tyler's mother, well, Wilf supposed, that did make sense. He stepped out of the shadows now that the women had passed and squinted until he managed to make out the Doctor hidden in the darkness around a corner further down the street. How he'd managed to make it that far in his condition, Wilf had no idea, but the two Tylers were still talking and their conversation drove that thought from his mind.

"Listen to you, with a mechanic," said the older woman indignantly, before continuing more softly, "Be fair, though. My time of life I'm not going to do much better."

The two women came to a stop and Rose reached out to grip her mother's shoulder and brush away a few stray pieces of hair. "Don't be like that," she said reassuringly, "You never know. There could be someone out there."

"Maybe, one day," Mrs. Tyler paused for a moment before giving her daughter a smile, "Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year!" Rose replied, as the two shared a hug then broke apart. "Don't stay out all night."

"Try and stop me," came the reply as her mother walked off.

Rose herself headed off in the opposite direction, hunched against the cold until something made her stop and turn towards the spot where Wilf knew the Doctor was hidden. He strained his ears and risked moving closer to the pair, trying to make out what she was saying.

"You all right, mate?" the girl asked.

The Doctor's head snapped up at the sound of her voice, "Yeah," he replied but even from where he was standing Wilf could hear the pain in his voice.

The young blond evidently heard it too, but seemed to interpret it differently. "Too much to drink?"

"Something like that," the Time Lord grimace.

"Maybe it's time you went home."

"Yeah…"

Rose offered him a bright smile. "Anyway, Happy New Year."

"And you," said the Doctor softly as Rose turned to walk away. Suddenly a thought seemed to occur to him. "What year is this?" he called after her.

Rose spun back around, laughing. "Blimey, how much have you had? 2005, January the first."

"2005," the Time Lord's voice was thick with some indistinguishable emotion, "Tell you what. I bet you're going to have a really great year."

"Yeah?" said Rose curiously before offering the weaken man another bright smile, "See you." And with that she ran off, disappearing into a nearby building.

The moment the girl made her way out of sight Wilf hurried towards the alien, ignoring the biting cold, and caught him by the elbow as he swayed unsteadily. "Whoa ho, I gotcha," he said softly, "C'mon now, let's get you inside…"

"She'll have great year," the Time Lord murmured, allowing himself to be supported towards the old Police Box without complaint, "She'll have a great year…"

The old human didn't reply, focusing instead on keeping them both upright as they continued forward slowly despite the fact that his charge had begun shaking uncontrollably. By the time they reached the ship the Doctor was shaking worse than ever. Wilf helped him slowly towards the center console of the TARDIS, allowing the machine to take some of her pilot's weight as they leaned up against it. Looking the Time Lord over critically, the old human noted a distinct golden glow he'd never seen before colouring the unnaturally pale skin. "It's time, isn't it?" he asked softly, his heart breaking slightly as the Doctor bit back another cry of pain and nodded, "Alright," he continued in as calm a voice as he could manage, "It'll be alright. Is there anything I can do to help? Anything you need?"

A strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, escaped the Time Lord. "Nope," he replied, his voice shaking roughly as he fought to bring his emotions under control, "Not a thing. Well, I wouldn't mind a banana, bananas are good –"

And Wilfred's heart broke yet again as the Doctor's voice did the same. "Oh, Doctor…" he murmured, reaching out with the intention of gripping the trembling shoulder before him but the alien turned away, his head bowed and eyes squeezed shut though whether out of physical of emotions distress Wilf couldn't be sure.

They stood like that for a moment, neither man making any attempt to move and the occasional catch of the Doctor's breath the only sound, until at long last the Time Lord spoke. "I don't want to go," he whispered in a voice so full of desperation that it gave Wilfred chills and he knew, somehow, just as he always had with Sylvia and Donna, what he had to do.

He took a breath and pushed the chills aside. "Doctor, look at me."

But the Doctor remained facing stubbornly the other way.

Unfazed, the old human reached out once more and rested his hand on the suit-clad shoulder from behind. "Look at me, son," he repeated firmly and finally his words, along with the gentle pressure of his hand, brought about the desired response as the Time Lord turned slowly to face him and the reason for his reluctance became clear. Unshed tears glistened in his big, dark eyes and Wilfred was reminded vividly of the first time he'd seen the alien so vulnerable, sitting across from him over a cup of tea.

"Wilf, I'm sor –" the Doctor began shakily, but Wilfred held up the hand which was not resting on his friend's shoulder, effectively cutting him off.

"No," he said simply, the firm, gently authoritative voice he'd perfected with his girls still in place, "Don't. You have nothing to apologize for because I don't want you to go either. But you know what, Doctor?" he gave the Doctor's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "We'll make do, we'll make do…"

Letting out a long breath the Doctor nodded and squared his shoulders despite the pain which flitted across his face in an attempt to gather himself together. "Right… Making do…" He released another slow breath, moving away from Wilf stiffly as his hands set to work adjusting the many levers and buttons that made up the TARDIS's controls.

"Doctor?" Wilfred asked kindly, confused and a bit concerned by the alien's sudden rush of, admittedly slow and painful, movement.

"The Time Vortex," came the clipped reply, something the old human attributed to the pain his friend was in, "I want to… I need to do this in the Time Vortex."

Wilf was reminded suddenly of an animal seeking out some shred of quiet and safety and home in which to die but he kept the thought to himself and instead put on his most reassuring smile as the TARDIS began to pulse gently around them. But even that was not enough to chase the look of terror from the Doctor's face as he stepped away from the console for the last time, his hands and face beginning to give off an eerie golden glow. What happened next the old human would not have believed had he not been there to see it for himself. His friend exploded. There was no other way to describe it, his arms were flung out wide while golden light ripped from his flesh and he screamed.

Fire exploded all around the ship's interior, rocking the TARDIS worse than ever and nearly knocking Wilfred off his feet. Bits of debris fell from above and he only just staggered out of the way as the shattered remnants of one of the coral structures came crashing down all too near where he'd been standing seconds before. And then, without warning, the screaming stopped, the golden light faded away and there, standing among the still-burning fires, was a new man.

He looked young, younger than he had before, with a floppy mess of dark hair and an angular face which at the moment betrayed nothing but confusion as he spun around, wide-eyed and finally seemed to focus on himself. "Legs. I've still got legs." He grabbed one leg and kissed it before moving on, his hands grabbing at each body part mentioned. "Good. Arms. Hands. Ooo, fingers. Lots of fingers. Ears, yes. Eyes, two. Nose, I've had worse. Chin, blimey. Hair. I'm a girl! No." He froze for a moment looking horrified with his hands still tangled in his disheveled locks before grabbing hurriedly at his Adam's apple. "No. I'm not a girl." He looked relieved before grabbing at his hair once more and pulling a few tufts into view. "And still not ginger. And something else. Something important…"

The TARDIS gave a particularly violent lurch which snapped Wilfred's gaze away from the stranger before him and had him seizing the nearest still-standing coral structure to keep from joining the piles of rubble on the floor. "Doctor!" he shouted, and despite the fires and violent tremors rocking the ship still felt a slight jolt of surprise when the younger man's head turned towards him in response to the name.

"Wilf! Look, Wilf's here! No, wait, that's not it…"

"We're crashing, Doctor!"

"Ah ha! Right! Yes, that's it! We're crashing!" He let out what Wilf considered to be a slightly manic laugh and launched himself towards the TARDIS's control panel, flicking switches and pulling levers even as they continued to plummet out of control. "GERONIMO!"