Title: I'll Do My Best
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jackie Tyler
Word Count: 1,212
Rating: K
Warnings: Spoilers for "World War Three" and "The Parting of Ways."
Summary: After "World War Three," the Doctor owes Jackie an answer to her question. He creates the hologram to help ensure it's an acceptable answer.
A/N: This was what happened at 3am the other night. It's probably been done before, but I'm past caring. Hope you enjoy. Also, reviews make my day.
As always, I don't own Doctor Who or any of its characters; I just play in their universe.
"What if something happens to you, Doctor, and she's left all alone standing on some moon a million light years away?" She'd demanded. "How long do I wait then?"
For once in his life, he'd stood there and been at a complete loss for words. Even now, he thought, what could he possibly have said? There was no way he could promise Jackie that her daughter would be safe; they all knew it. The incredible thing was that even Rose knew it, and still she'd chosen to stay with him (to his unmitigated relief).
Mickey was right, though – even when he tried to do the right thing, save the world, there was always a cost. Always collateral damage, a list of the dead. His companions were never safe, never had been, and Rose was no exception. For all that she thought she was young and indestructible, she was human and fragile, like all the others. One misstep, one adventure gone wrong, one lucky villain, and she'd be snuffed out as easily as a candle.
It terrified him.
And the unspeakable thought of having to go back to the Powell Estate and tell Jackie that her daughter was not coming back left him with an icy feeling in his chest.
"Doctor?" He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched. "You alright?" Somehow, he'd missed Rose come bounding in, apparently done unpacking. Her concerned eyes searched his for a second, seeming to read him, but she didn't make any further comment. "Off to the horsehead nebula, yeah?"
"Right." He flicked a few switches and pulled a lever on the console, his eyes following her as she grabbed a handhold. She gave him one of her most dazzling smiles, all bright dark eyes and white teeth, her whole face glowing in delight.
It was one of the traits he loved most in humans – this joy and love of living. Not everyone had it, and few had it in such great amounts as Rose, but it was a rarity in the universe. It was something to protect. It was at that moment that the Doctor promised himself that he would get Rose home safe, no matter what.
They'd gone to the horsehead nebula and seen the plasma storm. Rose had made sandwiches and lemonade and they'd sat in the TARDIS doorway, curled against each other, munching and watching the rainbows of color flash across empty, star-speckled space. Rose had claimed she'd seen colors dancing that she'd never known existed. Then she'd noticed his faraway gaze and commented that he'd seemed distracted all day, and conveniently, that was about the time that they'd accidentally drifted too close to the storm.
Even though the Doctor knew that the TARDIS force field would keep them safe, nearly falling through the door as the ship lurched had been a hair-raising experience. Rose had glared at him when he'd insisted that it had been an accident and obviously wasn't his fault; after all, he hadn't even been at the controls. Rose muttered something that sounded like, "That's rather the point."
They'd gotten knocked around a bit before they ended up riding the shockwave out to somewhere in the middle of nowhere – somewhere in empty space, which was just plain anticlimactic. Rose had laughed at him when he'd said this, and then she'd gone for a shower and a nap – it had been a long day, after all, with Slitheen and saving the world and angry mothers and all that.
No sleep for him, though, even if the nightmares were starting to fade a little. He crawled under the console. Tonight there was work to do. He couldn't guarantee his companion's safety, but he wasn't going to leave her abandoned on some moon somewhere. If something happened to him, he was going to send her home. He could trust his ship to do that for him. He was going to give her a fighting chance at life.
He spent all night under the console, playing with circuits and programming mechanisms. Eight hours, two burns, and a sore neck later, he'd worked out a system that would send the TARDIS, presumably with Rose inside it, straight back to the Powell Estate within a few months of her last visit. All he'd have to do was activate the protocol with the sonic. He'd thought of everything, he decided; he'd even made a sufficiently dire hologram recording for her, though it chilled him to watch it and he hoped she'd never have to see it.
He owed Jackie more than a cowardly scuttle back into his ship as Rose insisted she'd be fine. He owed her an answer. And the answer was, he'd do his best.
Rose had come home, as she always had. That goddamned blue box had gone wheezing into existence on her street again with the usual racket. This time, though, the Doctor hadn't stepped out of it behind her daughter. This time, there was only Rose, falling into Mickey's arms and sobbing hopelessly. He'd sent her home, Jackie realized, staring at them from her window. Finally, after all this time, he'd answered her question – he'd done everything in his power to keep her safe. And here she was, back to normal life.
Not really, though. Sure, she was there physically, but her mind was very clearly somewhere else. It had been a mistake to take her to a chips shop – the moment would not be improved by her favorite food; rather, her favorite food would be tainted by the moment. After all they'd been through, how could she just put the Doctor out of her mind and move on? Jackie didn't know why they'd expected it of her.
Mickey had realized it before she did. He and Rose had spent hours and hours trying to reverse the TARDIS back to wherever the hell they'd left the Doctor. She didn't understand any of it and had been angry that Rose wanted to go back. How could Rose leave her all alone again? After the Doctor gave her the gift of life, how dare she squander it by going back to die with him?
She didn't really know what made her change her mind. Perhaps it was the thought of that sweet, irritating man dying all alone hundreds of thousands of years in the future. More likely, it was the emptiness and desperation in Rose's expression. Even more likely, she'd simply gone mad. Rose had mentioned Pete and made some outlandish claims, and she'd snapped – totally gone off the deep end. The next thing she knew, she was driving some truck that was far too massive for her to handle, throwing the keys at Mickey, walking away.
Through it all, she realized one thing: her daughter was her own person now, and had the right to make her own decisions. This didn't have anything to do with Jackie anymore. The Doctor had kept the promise he'd never been able to make to her face – he'd brought her daughter home safe. For that, she was immensely grateful. He'd thought of everything – everything except for one thing. One small but hugely important thing. He hadn't counted on Rose's determination to bring him home safe, too. It was up to her now to follow through.
