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Title: Possibilities

Disclaimer: I do not own The Doctor, Rose Tyler, their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, friends, family or enemies. That honor belongs to the BBC.

Author's Notes: A challenge picture posted on Live Journal inspired this. This is the link (picture #8):

.com/time_and_#cutid1

He had stumbled here, actually; slid through a narrow gap in the fabric between dimensions. He was going to quietly leave, get into this universe's vortex if he could and look for a way back to his home universe. He didn't count on seeing what he saw on the monitor.

He and the TARDIS were in a large peaceful field, hidden in a small copse of trees. In the field, small, rectangular indentations held small, marble slabs. He knew enough of human customs to know that these slabs had names and dates carved into them. This was a place for the dead. In the distance, he recognized a family standing near a fresh grave. Rose, Jackie, Pete and two children. He wasn't there. Oh, no. A thousand different scenarios ran through his brain, all of them with his clone and Rose sitting at home watching the telly together that night after the sun went down. He hoped that this was the funeral of a friend, a distant relative, the family pet.

The Doctor waited for the Tyler family to leave and when he was reasonably sure that would not be seen, he left the cover of the trees and walked over to the freshly overturned earth.

The marble slab was already there; ready to be formally placed by workers. It felt like both of his hearts were run through with a sharp implement when he read the words:

John Noble-Smith

Doctor, Father, Husband, Friend

1971-2013

Now, my love, you can travel the stars

"Oh, Rose, what did I do to you?" He said softly to the air.

"You gave me him."

The Doctor turned around quickly to see Rose Noble-Smith standing before him. Dressed in dark colours, there was a slight smile on her face. "We were happy. We married in 2009. In 2010, Donna Sarah was born. Six months ago he was told he had incurable cancer. Four days ago, I held his hand as he took his last breath. His last words were, 'Don't wear black, my love, it makes you look so pale. I will love you until the last stars go out and beyond. Don't cry for me, I'll be travelling the stars.' You know the hardest thing has been telling Donna that her Daddy has gone away. She wants him to come home."

"Donna?"

"Our daughter. He wanted to honour her in some way. Is she OK?"

"She was with her family; safe, her memories gone."

"John told me what you were likely to take her memories. I'm sorry"

"She was safe, that's what matters."

"How long has it been?"

"A long time. Fifty-seven years. Martha and her husband died last year, car crash. Donna, five years ago; Sara-Jane, eight. Jack lost Ianto last week."

"Poor Jack. Mickey?"

"Peacefully in his sleep a year after he returned." He dreaded telling her that Mickey had died. "Alien virus. Quick. Painless."

Rose choked down the tears that threatened their reunion, none fell. "And how are you?"

"I'm alright. I'm always alright."

"Come back to the house. Mum has a reception spread out."

"I can't. Little Donna might get confused."

"She's clever. We'll tell her the truth, in a way. You're her Daddy's long lost twin." There was a pleading in her eyes. The sadness was rolling off her in waves.

Rassilon help me, he thought. He said, "Only for a little while. I need to find a way back."