Disclaimer: "Doctor Who" is the property of the BBC, and no infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Thanks, as always, to Sonic Jules for her unflagging support!
The dust was thick and choking. Remnants of smoke did little to improve the air quality inside the collapsed cathedral. Still, Rose persevered. A small group of rescue workers was digging through the rubble to her left, revealing a narrow den between pews. A quick glance showed her that several more people had been found alive. That was good, she assured herself. The balance was still horribly skewed in favor of the dead, but even one life saved was cause for elation.
She'd helped dozens of people out of the rubble, gently guiding their shocked and broken bodies through the debris and outside to the relative safety beneath the open sky. The Doctor had assured her—had assured all the rescuers and the community leaders—that the next wave wouldn't come for seven hours. That had been over six hours ago. She checked her watch quickly to be sure, because really she had no objective sense of how much time had passed since she'd first entered the site of the disaster.
The TARDIS had picked up the surge of wayward ionic energy, and the Doctor had instructed the ship to follow it to this small planet. She remembered his grave expression, the tightness of his brow, as he tracked the wave and then landed. He'd known what sort of havoc it would wreak, and there'd been no grins, no smart comments as they exited the ship.
The devastation lay inexorably before them. The cathedral had taken the brunt of the hit; the Doctor explained briefly that the wave's energy was attracted to lead, and the church's massive stained glass windows had acted almost like a homing beacon. The surge of energy had slammed into the great building, shattering the glass and rupturing the walls in less than a second. Most of the town had been gathered inside, waiting for the council to enter. Some sort of community meeting had been planned, but Rose couldn't remember what the purpose was. It didn't matter, really, and she didn't stop to think about it.
The Doctor had gone off immediately with the Prime and his staff to inspect the power station. He'd told her that another wave was imminent, but that he might be able to redirect it if he could shift the power supply out to… Rose shook her head; she couldn't recall what he'd said. All she knew was that he would help, that he would prevent any more injuries or deaths.
He'd expected her to accompany him to the power facility, but Rose had realized instantly that she could provide more assistance with the rescue efforts. While her knowledge of emergency medicine and first aid was very limited, she knew that she could move through the rubble and lead people out. She could provide a hug or a reassuring hand, too. But most importantly, she had the determination to help.
Now she was moving toward a mound of timber and stone. She'd spotted a movement near the floor, in the little crack at the base of the pile. There was a noise, too, and it sounded like crying.
Rose had to squeeze through a narrow channel between the split poles and pieces of rock to get close enough to see. She turned sideways, judging the space sufficient if tight. She felt her shirt snag on the rough wood, and several edges of stone jabbed hard at her arms and ribs, but she continued on. The sobbing was louder now.
Once she reached the source, she slid down onto her belly and peered into the small opening. She moved her torch, aiming the beam into the dark little space. A diminutive face peered out at her. Large eyes stood out against the pale skin.
"Help," the child squeaked. His tiny hand stretched out, fingers just fitting through the crack.
"It's all right, sweetheart," Rose said, brushing her own fingers over his. "I'm gonna get you out."
She began to dig.
The Doctor's hands flew over the panels, and sparks arced through the air as he aimed the sonic screwdriver at wires and circuits. There were hundreds of new connections to be made, and time was of the essence. If he couldn't redirect the next wave, the entire town would be destroyed.
He had fleeting thoughts of Rose as he worked. He pictured her comforting the wounded, wrapping a soothing arm around the shoulders of those who had lost a spouse or child or parent. But most of his mind was directed at his task. If he didn't stop the wave, all of Rose's and the other rescuers' efforts would be in vain.
He'd already decided to give himself a fifteen-minute window. If he absolutely couldn't alter the power fast enough, he'd stop a quarter of an hour before the wave hit. There'd be time to usher the survivors inside the TARDIS and take them elsewhere until the wave had passed.
But he hoped to avoid that course of action. If he could just reroute this handful of cables, reconfigure the circuits to create an energy pulse that would attract a covalent bond, then the wave would naturally follow, bypassing the town by at least a mile.
He asked for the time again. Sixteen minutes until the hit. He made a series of rapid calculations in his head. He would require fourteen point six minutes to complete the work, plus or minus seven tenths of a second. Well, that could take it up to fifteen minutes and change… but that wasn't important. He'd be cutting it awfully close, but he felt certain that he would succeed. Yet if he didn't, if anything went wrong or even the tiniest bit not right, he'd be risking the entire town.
He glanced at the Prime, who hovered nervously across the room.
"I need fifteen minutes, and it's going to hit in just over sixteen. I can evacuate most of you or keep going. Your call."
The Prime shifted from one foot to the other. "You're sure you can do this?"
The Doctor nodded. "Yes."
"Then finish it. I want to save what's left of this town."
Without a second wasted on words, the Time Lord returned to his work.