Rating: PG
Summary: The Doctor attempts to help a relative of Rose's.
Spoilers: New series Doctor Who. Later episodes of Life on Mars.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who characters belong to the BBC, Sydney Newman, Donald Wilson, C.E. Webber, Russell T. Davies, and their many, many well-paid lawyers. Life on Mars characters belong to Tony Jordan, Ashley Pharaoh, Mathew Graham and their many, many well-paid lawyers. I am NOT making any money off this, nor am I trying to infringe on anyone's copyright. Believe that.
Authors' Notes: Rose Tyler. Sam Tyler. You knew crossover fic was inevitable. I'm rather comfortable with how I wrote for the DW characters, but think I did a crap job with Sam. I'll do better next go around, all right? Also, this was written long before the series two premiere of Life On Mars.
Questions, Comments, Suggestions: Send to donnacsoprano76 AT gmail DOT com. All flames are read, laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.
'Come on now I hear you're feeling down
Well I can ease your pain
And get you on your feet again
Relax.
I need some information first
Relax.
Just the basic facts
Can you show me where it hurts'
- "Comfortably Numb", Pink Floyd.
"Comfortably Numb"
By Net Girl
"Sam? Sam Tyler, can you hear me?"
Sam's eyes opened as he sat bolt upright in bed. No one was there. He was alone. For a moment, he thought someone had called to him through the door. Yet his flat was dark, it was still nighttime. Usually that was when the stranger things happened to him here. He waited, intently listened, however, the only sound he heard was the low, eerie hum of the television. He hadn't left it on, either. His gaze settled on the screen. Instead of the usual image of the testcard girl, someone was there.
And that someone spoke directly to him.
"Sam, can you hear me?" the young man, around his own age, asked again.
He hesitated. Even now, after all he'd experienced, he was wary to get his hopes up about anything connected to the world from which he'd been separated.
The man on the screen squinted, one eyebrow arched over the rim of his glasses. "If you can hear me, say something."
As he crawled to the foot of the bed, Sam's eyes narrowed on the slender figure. The dark-haired man wore a suit along with his glasses. The style of it rather reminded him of a teacher he'd had in primary school – Mr. Beck. Was he another of his doctors? Or another of the odd visitors he received from time to time - the ones who did little to help, but a lot to unsettle him?
"Yes," he finally replied, carefully. He remained on the bed once he'd reached its foot. "I can hear you." No reply. "Hello?"
The man grinned. "Brilliant! I have found you!" he exclaimed as he clasped his hands together, pleased.
Almost breaking his arm in the process, Sam half-launched himself at the set. His hands gripped its sides with such desperation his muscles tingled after a few seconds from the strain. "I can hear you!" he cried out, elated someone out there could finally hear him. "You have to help me! Please, I ..." He trailed off. Was it any use? What if this was another hallucination?
"Keep talking," the man urged. "I'll reach you quicker if you do. But don't get excited, all right?"
Reach him? Sam shook his head slightly, confused by the comment. What did he mean by that? He banged a hand impatiently on the top of the set. "I'm here! Right in front of you!" he replied. The panic of losing the stranger continued to rise within him. He couldn't let the first person to hear him vanish. "Can't you see me?"
"No, not yet." The man sighed, almost frustrated. "Relax, Sam. Your emotions are blocking me. Too many doors to open and shut. I don't want to get lost in here myself."
Sam sat back on his heels then did as instructed – he forced himself to relax. It was more than difficult to do, to contain his emotions. The more he conversed with the stranger, the more hope of finally finding a way home returned to him.
"You can keep talking, just don't yell."
The man's voice was clearer, more distinct than before.
"Who ... are you?" Sam asked as he leaned closer to the screen.
"I'm the Doctor."
"The Doctor?" he repeated. "My doctor? A doctor?"
"The Doctor," the man corrected, slightly annoyed.
"All right, then. The Doctor." He paused. Something was oddly familiar about him - the Doctor. He dismissed it. Not much made sense anymore. Still, he found it odd the man wouldn't disclose a name. However, at this point, he was happy to have anyone from his own world able to hear him. If this was how "the Doctor" wanted it, he had no choice but to accept it.
"Good," the Doctor commented after a few moments. "You've calmed down enough I'm not forced to check a dozen bloody doors." He looked up, at something off-screen and out of Sam's sight. "Has anyone ever told you your mind is quite fascinating?"
"My ... mind?" What was he on about? "What do you mean?"
"How you've filed away your memories, it's like a police database," the Doctor answered. "Don't take that the wrong way, it's intriguing. I've known human minds to store memory by simple methods - touch, taste, smell, or even certain emotions ... But you, you've sorted it alphabetically, chronologically and even cross-categorized it. A database. Fantastic."
"Human?" He couldn't follow the Doctor's dialogue in the slightest. Then something else hit him. "Wait ... are you telling me ... you're inside of my head?" he incredulously asked.
"Not physically, no. Well, in a sense, I'm a part of your mind," the Doctor explained. His gaze seemed to meet Sam's. "I had to come to you the only way I'm able to do so. This way."
"No. This isn't real. It's a dream. A dream inside of a nightmare." He placed his hands to the sides of his head and shut his eyes. "It isn't real ... wake up ... wake up ... "
"Stop trying to shut me out!" the Doctor snapped, in a tone more aggravated than he should've. If he couldn't keep his own self in check, how could he expect Sam Tyler to do so?
The sound of a door being opened made Sam's eyelids slowly lift. He stared down at a pair of dark blue Converse trainers. His hands dropped away from his head as he lifted up his gaze. Towering over him, his hands shoved in the pockets of his brown pinstriped trousers, was the Doctor. He was no longer inside of the television set.
"Jesus!" He scrambled back from the Doctor, half on his on his feet, half on his knees. Once he was a comfortable distance away, he raised up a hand. He wasn't sure if it was to warn the Doctor off or to touch him, to discover just how real he was. Or wasn't. "You ... you were ..." He shut his eyes again. It couldn't be real. Just another weird dream, like the little girl.
"You shouldn't be frightened of me, Sam," the Doctor calmly stated. Sam's eyes opened and he saw the Doctor crouched in front of him with a slight smile on his face. "I'm here to help you, not to harm you."
Sam relaxed, slightly. Somehow, he wasn't one hundred percent convinced the Doctor was another hallucination. He was unlike everything else he'd encountered since waking up here. He couldn't shake the sensation that he'd met this man before. Somewhere ...
The Doctor rose to his full height and scanned the meager flat. "Funny you should place yourself here," he murmured. "No wonder it was so difficult to locate you in that noise."
Sam pressed his back against the wall, then slowly slid up it until he was on his feet. Still, he wasn't one hundred percent convinced he was safe with this "Doctor", either. "Who are you?" he inquired once again.
"I told you," he replied as he pivoted on a heel to face Sam. He grinned. "I'm the Doctor."
"Doctor of what, exactly? Neurology? Psychology?"
The Doctor shrugged, then leaned over to give the mattress on the bed a push with the palm of his left hand. "Dabble in a bit of everything," he said as he threw a glance over his shoulder to Sam. "Though, where I'm from, the 'Doctor' title is more honorary, really."
His entire manner turned solemn at his own indirect mention of Gallifrey. True, he had his issues with his people – when they'd still existed – but he missed his planet quite often. More than he would ever consciously admit. What did that human once write? "You can never go home again"?
He cleared his throat and forced a smile. "Fortunately, you've the right connections to get me."
Sam's brow furrowed as he regarded the Doctor. Whatever the pause a moment before was about, it wasn't related to anything good. "Connections?"
As he strolled to another corner of the room, the Doctor shoved his hands back into his pockets, then asked, "Does the name 'Pete Tyler' mean anything to you?"
Sam fell back against the wall as his mind accessed memories of Pete Tyler. A long time ago - around this time, actually - he'd had his first meeting with his cousin. Images of a light-haired boy, a few years older than Sam was in '73, came forth. Those were followed by ones of his mother, laughing along with a man, one who resembled his own father in many ways.
'Pete!' the man called, He waved a hand, gesturing for the boy to join him. 'Bit of a drive ahead of us. Come on, then!'
'I know!' Pete called back, rather frustrated. The boy turned back to the younger version of Sam. He mussed the kid's hair and flashed a smile Sam came to know rather well over the years. 'See ya, Sammy! Be back 'round the next holiday!'
'Bye!' he heard his own younger self call in reply as Pete joined his father. A comforting feeling accompanied the memory of Pete Tyler.
Sam imperceptibly jerked as the memory released him. He shifted his gaze to the Doctor who studied him closely over the top rims of his glasses. "My cousin," he quietly replied. He frowned. "He was - "
"- killed in 1987," the Doctor finished as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "Yes, I know." He refrained from tacking on, 'I was there'. "Ironic, isn't it? He was killed by a speeding car, and you were put into a coma by one." He considered it for a moment. "Isn't it brilliantly strange how the universe works sometimes?"
Sam stared at the Doctor as the man walked by him to investigate the other corner of his flat. "It's something. 'Brilliantly strange' isn't what I'd call it, however," he flatly said.
As though he hadn't heard Sam's response, the Doctor chuckled as he sifted through the bits of post and filework piled at the top corner of Sam's bed. "You've done quite a job." He waved a copy of the local paper, its headline lauded the bravery of another policeman – Gene Hunt. "Details. Devil's in the details, or so they say." He flicked the paper to Sam, who barely caught it. "I've met devils – maybe even the Devil, still not sure on that one – but I've never come across anything quite like ... this."
As the Doctor leaned over to inspect the back of the television set, Sam threw the newspaper aside and asked, more forcefully than he should've, "What does Pete Tyler have to do with you being here? You couldn't have known him ..."
"Why?" The Doctor popped up from behind the television, then he gently smiled. "Too young? Ah, details!" He drummed the fingers of his left hand on the top of the set. "Perhaps I should try something more obvious, then? What about Rose Tyler?"
"Did you know my daddy?" a young girl's voice asked.
Sam looked down, not surprised in the least to see a blonde girl, around seven years old, staring back up at him, almost wide-eyed. "Yes," he answered without realizing he'd spoken aloud. His head lifted and he shifted his half-dazed gaze to the Doctor. "I know her."
The Doctor nodded. He wondered what happened in the instant before. He'd glanced down when Sam did, but saw nothing. This was Sam Tyler's mind, though, he was only a guest here. "You've seen her recently?"
"No. Last time was a few years ago. She was ... fourteen, fifteen."
"Mm. You remember her well, then?"
"Yes. And her mother, Jackie." He couldn't help but smile when he remembered Jackie Tyler. That woman was unlike any other he'd ever known. She'd given her life to her daughter, certainly. But she wasn't one to keep her opinions to herself about anyone else's life. His included.
'You should get out of that awful town,' she'd declared on more than one occasion, meaning Manchester. 'Change in scenery would do you good, I think. Rose would be happy, too. She's quite fond of you, Sam'.
"Whenever I could, I'd visit them. Be sure they were all right."
"Returning the courtesy Pete's father paid to you and your mother." It wasn't a question or an assumption, it was a statement of fact. The Doctor had learned a lot about Sam Tyler while he'd sifted through his mind.
"I suppose so." He looked away, and his faint smile vanished as he did. "Felt wrong not to."
"Then you stopped."
"Work. Couldn't leave whenever I felt like after the promotion." He shrugged a bit. "Never thought it'd make a difference. Jackie, she managed well enough without me."
"Not as well as she could've had you continued to do so," the Doctor said.
"Rose ... what's she have to do with this?" Sam asked after an uncomfortable silence.
"She's how I found you." The Doctor approached him. "Physically speaking, that is. You see, I'm not your average doctor."
"I sorted that out a while back."
The Doctor smiled, rather amused by the tone of Sam's voice. "And, I'm not actually here with you," he continued, gesturing to the floor at 'here' to indicate the flat. "What you see is a mental projection of myself, the one standing beside you in the hospital." He paused as he searched Sam's face for any clues he followed. "Do you understand?"
Sam nodded once. He wasn't sure he completely understood, but it was clear enough. For now.
"Good." With a smile, he patted Sam's shoulder, then continued. "We're deep inside of your subconscious." He glanced around. "1973. Not the year I'd choose to recreate, but for some reason, after the accident, you ran here. Do you know why?"
"My dad ... I think," was the unsteady answer.
The Doctor leaned forward a little, to get a better look into Sam's eyes. A rather critical expression washed over his face. A few moments later, he clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "No, that isn't it. It's something below that, deeper than I'm able to go." He tilted his head to the left. "Whatever happened to you now, in this year, must've been why ..." His voice trailed off.
"Must've been ... what?"
Ignoring the question, the Doctor inquired, "Why didn't you respond when asked to?"
"I did." He recalled every instance he'd reacted to the outside world creeping into ... wherever this was. Too many nights he'd helplessly watched as a different doctor explained, in no clear terms, what was wrong. He'd heard the nurses, the machines, music, his mother ... "No one heard me."
"If you'd have truly responded, they would've known." He shifted his gaze to the television set, still quietly humming beside them. "You open and close the door of your own volition. You've simply chosen not to go through it."
Frustrated with the Doctor's riddles and double-talk, Sam grabbed the man by the lapels of his suit jacket and yanked him close. "Then tell me what I need to do!"
The Doctor's form flickered just enough he lost solidity. In that moment, Sam's grip on him was gone. The Doctor looked from his rumpled suit jacket to Sam. Sam stared at his clutched fists, baffled by what had just happened.
"I warned you, didn't I?" the Doctor said, barely containing his aggravation. He smoothed down the front of his jacket. "Let your emotions surface, the door closes, and I disappear." He finished with his suit. "I'm not certain I'd be able to find you again. You've hidden yourself amazingly well. For a human."
"I've told you ... "
The Doctor let out a breath. "Only you can end this," he interrupted. "I'd hoped to help you sort things out, in order to do that. I won't be able to as long as you resist me."
Sam's hands dropped to his sides. "Tell me, Doctor," he began much calmly than before. "What do I need to do?"
"Right!" The Doctor broke into a huge grin. "That's more like it!" He clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder and gave him a push down. The man landed – hard – in a sitting position on the bed. The Doctor grabbed a nearby chair and situated himself face-to-face with Sam.
"You could've asked me to sit, you know," Sam muttered. He doubted the Doctor even heard him. The fact he'd launched right into an interrogation of his own just confirmed it.
"Before you were struck by the car, what were you thinking about?"
Sam absently gazed at a spot on the wall just over the Doctor's left shoulder as he thought back to that day. The day everything went wrong. The day, when it didn't seem things could get any worse, they did. Maya was gone. He still blamed himself for it, too. Even after he'd managed to solved the case here. If it made any difference out there, he didn't know. He may never know if he couldn't get back.
"A case, mostly," he finally answered.
The Doctor nodded. Jackie had told him and Rose about it. He decided to keep the fate of the female detective to himself. Good or bad, he needed Sam's mind clear to accomplish anything with him. "But nothing else?"
Sam's gaze shifted to the Doctor. "No."
His eyes narrowed and his mouth quirked. "This would move along much faster if you'd not lie."
"What? I'm not lying!" he defensively snapped. The Doctor's face remained the same.
It was in that moment Sam was struck by something where the Doctor himself was concerned. His eyes, the look in them was familiar. A certain emptiness he'd noted in those of victims' families – loss. He wondered what the Doctor had experienced. Judging by the emptiness in his eyes, it was loss on a massive level.
The Doctor was momentarily put off-balance by the critical way Sam Tyler studied him. He could almost hear what the other man was thinking. It tended to happen when he was exposed to someone else's mind for an extended period of time. The words "pain" and "loss" jumped into his own thoughts.
"Whatever brought you here," he said, looking away from Sam for a few seconds. "It's connected to what was on your mind before the accident."
"And ...?"
"You said your father was the reason." He shook his head then adjusted his glasses. "It's more than a case, it's more than your father. What is it, then?"
He wiped both hands down his face and tried to keep himself level. "How the hell should I know? Isn't that why you're here?"
The Doctor gently placed his hands on Sam's upper arms. "Do you want me to disappear, Sam?" he asked, brows arching over the top rims of his glasses. "Concentrate, then. The case, your father, why would two completely unrelated events bring you here?"
Sam sighed heavily, his frustration with the Doctor had become difficult to contain. "I don't know!"
"You do know! You just haven't realized yet."
Beside them, the television flickered to life with sound. The steady beep of the monitors was soon joined by a voice known to them both.
"Doctor?" Soon, her form faded into view. She seemed to be looking at them, but both knew it wasn't possible. "Doctor, can you hear me?"
This was fantastic. Something he'd never experienced during one of these before – a third party from the outside filtering inside. His own unique connection to Rose had allowed her to "piggyback" into Sam's mind through him. Voice recognition on Sam's part had created the image of Rose Tyler on the screen. The Doctor's knowledge of how she looked at nineteen gave the young woman her proper form and not that of a 14-year-old Rose. He had to restrain himself from becoming giddy over the situation. It took concentration of his own to stay with Sam.
Sam stared at the screen. Rose. She was so different than he remembered her. She'd grown up quite a bit in five years. Her resemblance to Pete had only strengthened in that time as well. The Doctor looked from Rose to Sam's profile. Something had changed within him upon her appearance. Maybe this was exactly the push Sam needed. He released him and sat back in the chair to see what he would do.
"Doctor." The worry Rose felt was obvious now. "You've been ... gone a long time. Mum and I are ... " She flickered for a moment. "... come back."
Sam knelt in front of the television. The light from the screen illuminated his face in such a way the Doctor could see him clearly. "She's changed," he commented. A hand rested on the screen then he looked to the Doctor. "More than simply aging a few years. What's happened to her?"
"Why not ask her yourself?" the Doctor suggested.
He turned back to the set. His hand slightly moved to 'touch' Rose's face.
"Mum, did you see that!" she exclaimed, her focus on something in the lower left corner of the screen, out of the view of Sam and the Doctor. "His hand moved!"
Sam's gaze slid to his hand laid palm-flat against the screen as he brushed his fingers slightly down it. It resulted in Rose declaring his hand had moved again. He looked from it to the young woman, who was no longer burdened with the worry from a few seconds before. He understood what the Doctor meant when he'd spoken of "walking through the door".
A smile crept to the Doctor's face. Yes. It was working. From what he'd been told, similar things had taken place when the mother was present in the room. The link to his family was important, so important it was the only thing which brought him close enough to the "door". Under the right conditions, the door would open outward.
Sam's hand fell away from the screen. "I made a mistake then, Doctor. When I stopped seeing her." He looked away from Rose, to the floor just in front of the television. "And, you were right. Earlier, I mean. I did lie."
The Doctor frowned as he stood up. What had changed? Sam had taken the first real step forward. Why did he back away now?
"Why I never went back, it wasn't as I said," Sam continued as he looked to the Doctor. "I saw myself, from years ago, when I saw her. And Jackie. Together."
"How did you see yourself?"
"Some of my best memories involved Pete. Mostly when we were kids. Especially after ... " He closed his eyes for a moment, flashing back to that memory of his father he'd recently regained. "He was important to us. To ... me."
The Doctor stood behind Sam, his gaze locked on the man as he listened closely to his words.
"Do you know that feeling of absolute safety?" he asked as he looked up to him. "Knowing, without even realizing it, you're completely safe? The feeling you had when you were a kid? Nothing was dangerous."
Finally, he understood. It'd been centuries since he'd known it himself, but he knew. "You wanted to come here. This time, this year," he gently said. His gaze shifted to the television as Rose's image faded from the screen. "You came to feel safe again?"
Even for Sam, it made some kind of sense. Gene had told him more than once he'd "requested" the transfer. Maybe that's what it was. Maybe he was hiding from a world he didn't want to deal with anymore. Maybe. If that were so, why did he always think about going home?
"Can you help me leave here?" he asked after a short silence.
"I'm sorry," the Doctor murmured. "I've done all I can do."
He'd expected that to be the Doctor's answer. "What if I never find the way out?"
"Then you'll stay here forever." A beat. "Well, until you die, that is." His expression turned sympathetic as he lowered himself to Sam's level, then placed a hand on one of Sam's shoulders. "Look, I'll visit again, if possible. Unless you decide to wake up before then."
In a blur, the Doctor's form sputtered before he finally evaporated in front of Sam's eyes. A second later, he reappeared on television screen.
Sam rested his palms against the screen, his fingers almost framed the Doctor's face. "Can't you stay a while?" He almost sounded like a little boy who pleaded with a parent not to leave him alone in the dark.
"I'm sorry, I can't. Nurses'll be back soon. You know how they are. And I have to find my own way out." He sighed a little, wondering if he should even say the next part. "I'll be honest with you – the longer you remain here, the more difficult it will be for you to leave."
"I - "
"Goodbye, Sam Tyler."
"No! Wait!" He slammed both hands on the top of the set after the Doctor's image completely melted away. "Please!" His head bowed forward until it rested on the set between his hands. The one person who'd managed to reach him, to let him know he hadn't went insane, and not forgotten by the outside world, was gone. More than likely for good.
A light knock on the door snapped him out of his daze. Annie's voice called out to him.
"Sam, are you there?" Her voice was muffled by the door, but he knew it was her. "DCI Hunt sent me – he needs your help." She waited. "Sam?"
He shifted his gaze to the blank screen on the lowly humming television set. He drew in a deep breath, let it out then wiped a hand over his face. Still, he continued to stare at set. What if he left and the Doctor came back? Or if he simply ignored Annie? If he tried hard enough, he could leave. Perhaps. The "door" was open.
The picture on the screen rolled and the image of the testcard girl returned.
"Sam?"
"I'm here," he replied, glancing over his shoulder. Slowly, his hand reached for the knob on the set. It lingered there as he stared at the girl, and then turned it off.
Rose Tyler paced the floor as she anxiously chewed one of her fingernails. Jackie was seated in a chair which was situated beside Sam's hospital bed. She watched her daughter complete another round, then sighed.
"Rose, the Doctor knows what he's doing," she offered. Rose only continued to pace. "He wouldn't have tried it if he didn't."
She came to a stop and focused on her mother. "He's never been gone this long before, Mum," she replied. She looked to her right. "Something's happened, and I can't do anything about it."
The Doctor had been half-bent over Sam's bed, his hands placed on the man's temples, for nearly thirty minutes. He was unresponsive to everything she'd tried, from poking him in the side to simply talking to him. He'd told her before he began this could be dangerous. Especially when the person in question was unconscious in some form. Still, she'd asked him to try. She had to know if it was possible.
On the opposite side of the bed, the Doctor's arm moved. His closed eyelids trembled slightly. In the next instant, both flew open. He blinked as he gazed down on Sam's physical body. It'd taken him a while to locate Sam. In fact, this was the longest he'd ever spent inside of any human's mind. Past usage of his skills were minimal - bits of hypnosis, and, most recently, Madame du Pompadour. Sam Tyler's mind was so different from other humans – methodical. Understandably so, given his profession. His extensive organization had proved more of a hindrance than a help.
"Doctor?" Rose cautiously asked as she stepped beside him. She placed a hand on his left arm. "Are you all right?"
He removed his own hands from Sam's head then, slowly, turned his attention to the concerned young woman at his side. "I found him," he told her in a low tone. "He's in there. It's ... it's quite brilliant, really."
Rose looked from the Doctor to Sam. She knew him well, better than her own father, actually. She'd always enjoyed his visits, not only because she heard amusing stories about Pete Tyler when he was a younger man (before he'd met her mother) but because she just liked him.
She liked that he was a policeman, someone who protected other people. He was funny. He would listen to her, no matter what nonsense she was on about on any given day. And her mother's trademark nagging didn't seem to irritate him. A few times, Rose thought he actually enjoyed it. Whenever she saw him, it was the highlight of the week. And she missed him more than she'd ever admitted to her mother when he, almost abruptly, stopping coming to see them. For a while, she thought she'd done something wrong. No. He had too much to do, the drawback of his job.
"What do you mean, you found him?" Jackie's voice snapped Rose out of her memories. "He's been in a coma for weeks, what's there to find?"
The Doctor looked to Jackie. "His mind is still active." He tapped his own temple. "You humans haven't any idea of how powerful your minds can be. He's hidden himself in his subconscious, and he did a fantastic job of it, too."
Jackie sat back, her eyes on Sam now. "But ... why?"
"The accident caused physical trauma, but that's superficial," he explained. "His mind, though, it's a bit tricker to heal."
"Can you help him, then?" Rose asked, hopeful.
He made a face as he scratched the back of his head. "Well ... we chatted a bit," he said. He wasn't sure how to explain it without revealing uncomfortable information in regards to Vic Tyler, Sam's father. "He's done some beautiful work in there – recreated 1973 in absolute perfect detail. I had a look around. And, he's functioning as a policeman in that year. Like I said, you humans haven't any idea the potential of your own minds."
"'73?" Jackie repeated. "That was when ... that was the year his father disappeared." Her brow furrowed. "He was only a little boy then. Why would he go there?"
The Doctor's hand dropped to his side. "Something about that year is ... comforting to him." He looked to Rose. "Involves your father, too."
"Pete?"
"My dad?"
Jackie and Rose spoke simultaneously.
"He said '73 was the first time he'd met Pete."
Jackie nodded. "Yes, just after Vic ... vanished." She knew the story well enough herself. She'd often wondered what had happened to Vic Tyler. Never had she met the man, but she knew Ruth Tyler. Why he'd leave a woman as lovely as her, and a small child as well, she couldn't begin to guess.
"So ... you can help him?" Rose asked once more.
He solemnly shook his head. "The only person who can help Sam is himself."
"But ... but you ... talked to him." She was aware of the tears forming in her eyes. Her voice became more unsteady with each word she spoke. "Can't you ... wake him up?"
"I'm sorry, Rose." He hated to feel so powerless. He had all of these advantages as a Time Lord, but they were useless in emotional and mental matters. He'd wanted to do one good thing for the Tyler family, one thing which wouldn't endanger the existence of the universe. The Doctor glanced between Rose and Jackie. They'd stayed too long. He'd preferred them wait outside while he attempted to contact Sam. Neither one would have it. He gently touched Rose's shoulder, gaining her attention. "We should leave."
She nodded. As much as she wanted to stay, like the Doctor, the feeling of powerlessness bothered her. She'd been so proud of herself for the idea to ask him to help. Now, she was right back where she was a few hours ago.
"Mum ..." Jackie raised her head. Both of her hands were clasped around one of Sam's. "We should go," Rose finished.
"I'm stayin'," she firmly replied. Her hands gripped Sam's and she swallowed hard. "Talk to him a while. He can hear us, right?" She looked to the Doctor, who nodded. "Then I'll stay."
"Mum -" Rose began to protest.
"I'm not leavin'. I'm sure you have ... somewhere else to go." She glanced at the Doctor. "I don't."
Without another word, Rose left the room. Her battle with her own tears neared its end, and she hadn't come out the winner. She felt them spill down her cheeks as soon as she stepped into the corridor. As buried her face in the palms of her hands, she leaned back against the wall. Her legs could no longer support her. Slowly, she slid down the wall until she was in a squatting position.
The Doctor, hands tucked into his trouser pockets, joined her in the corridor. He stood beside Rose and empathetically gazed upon her. It bothered him he couldn't do more to help. Maybe, if he'd stayed longer, he could've convinced Sam to leave. Maybe. Too many of those these days – maybes.
Rose sniffled loudly as she lowered her hand and tilted her head back until it touched the wall. Her fingers brushed away the traces of the tears. "Thank you, Doctor," she hoarsely whispered. She craned her head to look up at him. "At least ... at least we know he's ... " Her words trailed off. Her fingers wiped across her cheeks again as she cleared her throat. "Thank you. I ... I know you did everything you could've."
The Doctor let his gaze drop to his shoes. After a few moments of consideration, he extended a hand to her. "Come on."
Rose looked from his hand to him. "What?"
"Come on," he repeated. He wiggled his fingers until she accepted his hand. Once he pulled her to her feet, he smiled. "I'm going to do everything I can possibly do."
As usual, no one seemed to notice a blue police box materialize out of thin air. However, the street, which was situated in a more residential area of their destination, was quiet anyway. The outer door of the TARDIS opened and the Doctor leaned out. He scanned the immediate neighborhood then let out a breath as he smiled.
"Just where we want to be!" he declared, satisfied. It wasn't often the old girl managed such pin-point accuracy.
"And where's that?" Rose asked as she joined him outside. She tugged her jean jacket tightly around her as she gave the street a once over. She didn't recognize it. She only knew they weren't in London.
The Doctor turned at the waist, to look over a shoulder to her. "Manchester. 1973."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Are you serious?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"When aren't I serious?" He adjusted his own coat. It was more than chilly that day. Cold, really. "Why don't we have a look about?" he suggested. After he decided on a direction, he started to walk.
Rose, who'd been turned away from him when he left, jogged to catch up. "Doctor, if we're in Manchester in 1973, we might ... "
"Hmm? Oh! You're worried something may happen? Like the last time?" He shook his head. "No. As long as we don't do anything to bugger the timeline, we'll be fine."
She glanced at the few people on the streets. Most of them went along their way, but a few took notice of the out of place pair. "I don't understand, Doctor. Why are we even here?" she inquired after they traveled west two blocks.
He kept a keen eye on the houses as they walked, almost as though he searched for something specific. "If I want to help Sam, I should know more about him."
"But ... you were in his mind. Didn't you learn enough there?"
The Doctor scoffed lightly. "Hardly. Unreliable data, mostly," he answered. Off of Rose's curious expression, he went on. "Sam's memories – like every being's – are filtered through his eyes. I might see something here which I didn't while there. Something that may be useful in the future."
"Strictly sight-seein', then."
"Strictly," he confirmed.
Rose took in the neighborhood and found comfort in the fact it was quiet. One thing she'd rarely known coming up in London, quiet. Not as though it was a complaint on her part, she'd always thought Manchester terribly boring. Why Sam would want to live here, in or outside of his head, she'd never understand. The Doctor came to a stop so abruptly, Rose almost slammed into the back of him. She followed his gaze. He stared intensely at one of the houses. They weren't exactly in front of the one he had his eyes affixed upon, but it was obvious he'd found what he'd been searching for.
"Is this it?"
"Yep." He looked over to her. "It is."
Nearby, a few children kicked a ball around between them. They didn't seem to notice, or care, about the strangers standing on the walk.
"What now?"
Hands in his pockets, the Doctor contemplated the question. He shrugged. "Haven't the slightest." He turned when he heard one of the kids call out.
"Aw, Danny, you idiot! You've lost the ball!"
"No, I didn't!" another boy snapped back. He pointed. "It's only 'cross the street there!"
"Get it!"
"You get it!"
"I didn't kick it there, you did!"
While the two older boys argued, a younger one, who'd been a spectator, stood up and headed for the street. "Just get it!" Danny yelled.
The Doctor was about to turn away when something caught his eye. With speed he'd never even knew he possessed, he bolted down the walk, towards the younger boy.
"Doctor!" Rose yelled as he inexplicably ran away from her.
The child was almost in the direct middle of the street, completely oblivious to everything around him, his focus only on the ball in the nestled by a bush on the other side. A hand reached out, seized him by the collar of his jacket then yanked him back. In the next second, a car whizzed by, its driver preoccupied with something else, so he didn't even see the child in the middle of the street.
Rose watched the car sail by her, then looked back to the Doctor, who had the boy on the walk with him now. "Are you all right?" the Doctor asked as he lowered himself to the boy's level.
He nodded. "Yes."
Curious, Rose took a few steps forward, then halted when the Doctor held up a hand to keep her back. Her brow knitted in confusion once more. Why didn't he want her to come closer? Her eyes shifted to the little boy, who occasionally nodded as the Doctor spoke to him in a low tone. She strained to hear, but they were too far away for her to make out anything said.
After a few minutes, the Doctor smiled as he watched the boy rejoin the others. He tucked his hands into his coat pockets and strolled back to Rose. "What was that about?" she asked as he walked by her. She frowned a bit when he only smiled more. She fell into step beside him. "Doctor?"
"It doesn't matter, Rose. Time to go."
"But - "
The door to the Tyler residence opened and a younger version of Ruth Tyler stepped out. "Sam!" she called out. She waved her hand in the direction of the playing children. "Come inside!"
Rose stood motionless as the boy the Doctor had saved from the car hurried up the walk and straight into his waiting mother's arms. Her eyes widened when she realized exactly whom the child was. She turned to the Doctor. "Did you know that was going to happen?" She pointed toward the street. "With the car and all?"
He shrugged. "Hadn't the slightest!" he cheerily replied.
She studied him for a moment. He was different from a few minutes ago. He wasn't as gloomy. "What did you say to him?"
Leaning toward her, he pressed a finger to his lips. "It's a secret," he whispered. A broad grin spread across his face, he pivoted on his heels, tucked his hands into his coat pockets and headed back up the street.
Rose glanced over her shoulder. Sam and his mother were still outside, and the boy gazed almost absently at the Doctor's retreating figure. What was the secret? Why couldn't she know? She hurried to catch up to him before he vanished around the corner.
The little boy watched the stranger and his friend walk away together. He'd never seen either one before, but the man, who'd called himself 'the Doctor', knew his name. After the Doctor told him to never cross a street without looking both ways first, he said something really weird. 'No matter how bad things may seem in the future, Sam, don't shut the whole world out. It's ... it's not good to be all by yourself. You're always safe when you're not alone'.
"Come on, Sam. We're going to meet your cousin, Pete, today." She smiled. "He's about your age. You'll have lots of fun with him."
The boy nodded then dutifully followed his mother inside. The words of the strange Doctor were almost forgotten by the time the door closed behind them.
Almost.