Beneath the Midnight Sky
This is a birthday present for the wonderful badwolfrun over on Tumblr :)
"So, where are we off to today?"
The Doctor looked up in surprise as Donna entered the console room, hoisting himself up from the grating he'd been under. He looked at her with furrowed brows; she still had another three hours to go in her sleep cycle. She shouldn't be awake or coherent, much less asking him about their next destination.
His eyes made a quick journey up and down her body, scanning her face quickly. She looked exhausted. Her face was paler than usual; her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, as though she couldn't be bothered with anything else; there were dark circles under her eyes and a haunted look within them.
Guilt settled heavily in his stomach. Of course she was still upset over the events of the Library. He was still shaken too. But Donna had lost a family to the Library's databank. A virtual one, granted, but they'd been real enough to her; and he knew first-hand the kind of pain that went with losing a child.
"Oh, I know just the place!" he crowed, spinning around to set the coordinates. "There's this nice little planet called Midnight, made of diamonds. Completely uninhabitable, though; it orbits an X-tonic star. Step outside and you're roasted. It does have a nice little Leisure Palace though, and that, Donna Noble, is our destination for the day!"
Donna furrowed her brows and walked up to the console, gripping it reflexively for balance as he began the materialization sequence. The rotor began to groan as it lit up and slowly chugged up and down. Surprisingly, it was a fairly smooth landing; the tell-tale thud was the only indication that they'd been in flight at all.
"So what's at this Leisure Palace?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.
The Doctor grabbed his overcoat from a coral strut and rushed to the door, saying, "Oh, lots of things! The main attraction is its spas, but it also gives tours to nearby landmarks, and there's fine dining and…"
"What are we doing here, then?" she asked quizzically. "Is there something gone wrong with the spas? Some sort of poisonous alien face cream or something?"
The Doctor gave her a puzzled look
"No, it's exactly what is says on the tin: Leisure Palace."
He then rubbed at his neck awkwardly and shifted his weight from foot to foot as he continued, "I figured we could use a bit of a break. I used to take companions to places like this quite often. Sort of dropped the ball with you and Martha. Sorry 'bout that. When Rose was with me, we'd…"
He clamped his mouth shut with a click, his face shuttering off and becoming the neutral mask Donna was very familiar with. He rarely spoke of Rose, but when he did, his voice would become so soft and wistful, before hardening into the expression he now wore. Donna knew it was useless to pry; she'd already tried that, but the more she pushed, the more he retreated.
"Anyways, not important!" he said suddenly with a manic grin. "Never been here before; it's a brand new experience for us both! Been meaning to try one of their tour trips. Come on, then!"
Instead, she smiled softly, touched at the consideration for a day off, and said, "Sounds lovely. Thanks."
He grinned widely at her, before flinging open the doors of the TARDIS, and stepping onto the planet Midnight.
xXxXx
Rose was exhausted. The Dimension Cannon had finally shown signs of life, and they were now in the testing phase. She'd already been on more than a dozen jumps – each universe slightly different than the last, but not quite the one she was looking for – when they finally found it.
She'd known the moment she landed. Earth always had a unique feel to it, a unique smell or something that just felt like home. Rose had never been able to fully describe that feeling, but she never felt it on any of the planets she'd visited with the Doctor, or on any of her cannon jumps.
When she got her footing and the head rush had dissipated, Rose had realized she'd made it back to her home universe; she was ecstatic. But then reality struck; just because she found her Earth didn't mean the Doctor would be on it. He often went years without visiting that little blue planet; she might not truly find him for months. And even if she did, it might not be the proper him: the one she'd lost at Canary Wharf, the one she loved so deeply, desperately, and absolutely.
She'd managed to pull herself from that train of thought before it got too deep, and had instead gone exploring. She had thirty minutes before she could jump back and try again. Oh, the things she could get up to in thirty minutes. She'd once started and ended a civil war in those thirty minutes.
As her time had drawn to a close, a red-haired woman excitedly approached her and began babbling about bins and a woman named Sylvia. She just nodded, knowing she'd never be able to pass on this woman's message. But the woman left before Rose could get a word in edgewise, and Rose was pulled back to her parallel universe.
That interaction had happened a few weeks ago.
The medics at Torchwood tried to restrict Rose's jumps to once a week; she managed to coax them into twice a week. Though she wished she could so more jumps more often, she had to admit that they took a lot out of her; being ripped apart and hoping to be put back together in the same configuration across the Void wasn't her ideal mode of transportation.
That didn't mean she had to be sitting idly by, either.
Mickey and other techie Torchwood agents had managed to hook up the dimension cannon to a kind of webcam, allowing her to make multi-dimensional video calls in hopes of contacting the Doctor that way. Most of the time, she'd either intruded on intergalactic conferences, families in front of the telly, or just saw static on the computer monitor. A couple weeks ago, though, Mickey managed to get her a glimpse of the interior of the TARDIS, empty. A few days ago, they caught the interior of the TARDIS again, this time Rose caught a glimpse of a woman (companion?) before the feed cut out.
She tried not to let it bother her that the Doctor may have picked up a new traveling companion; she knew he needed someone, and was glad that there was someone who could watch over him. After all, it was far more important to contact him, and let him know of the multi-universal crisis she had on her hands, than to worry herself that her feelings could potentially be unrequited.
On her non-jumping days, when she wasn't busy or needed in the field, she spent most of her time making video calls with Mickey and other agents there as tech support.
Coffee in hand, she plopped down in front of a massive computer system. The computer was large and bulky, taking up at least half the room with its many constituent components and software systems, all of which were wired into the Dimension Cannon. Mickey and another agent were already typing away, running a search program they'd designed to help find the Doctor and/or the TARDIS. The program they'd developed was designed to track and trace Artron energy signatures throughout the universe.
"Anything yet?" she asked through a yawn.
"Watch the coffee," Mickey said instead, his eyes not leaving the monitor. "Don't want months of research and development to go down the toilet."
Rose hummed in reply, moving her beverage further away from the computers.
"When was the last time you slept?" Mickey asked, his eyes shifting towards her as she tried to stifle another yawn.
Rose shrugged and said, "Been busy. You know how it is. So, you got anything with this thing? Any coordinates for my next jump?"
Mickey began to shake his head, when a series of flashing code crossed the monitor in front of the other agent working beside them. Kingsley, Rose finally remembered, George Kingsley. He was new to their unit, having just been recruited from university last summer.
All three agents sat up straighter, and both George and Mickey began typing furiously, muttering curses and encouragements under their breath. Rose froze, hope blossoming in the pit of her stomach. She desperately wished it was him; she lived for the days she saw his face pop up on their monitor. At least she knew he was safe, and still his skinny, pinstriped self.
"Aha, got it!" Mickey shouted, making Rose jump.
And there it was. Rose saw the interior of a tiny, darkened room with posh leather seats. There were rows of chairs on either side of an aisle; a airplane, or a vehicle of some kind, maybe?
The people in the room looked a little worse for wear, pale and trembling and checking each other over. Finally, she saw him; the Doctor stood up, back to her, and appeared to be speaking to the people within the vehicle. She cursed the lack of audio as her fingers ghosted over the monitor, tracing the back of his head.
"Let me talk to him," she ordered Mickey firmly. "Get the video call set up. Hurry!"
Mickey switched on the webcam and pressed a few more computer keys, before giving her a thumbs up. She called for him, but as he kept his back resolutely towards her, she realized that he couldn't hear her. Again.
"You might not even be on that screen," George reminded her gently. "It's always hit or miss with these things; we can't ever tell if the video transmission's made it through. But the fact that we can try to locate him through this is a huge step in the right direction."
Rose's shoulders slumped and she rested her forehead in her hands.
"I'm so close," she shouted angrily, lashing out with her hands and hitting the table. Her coffee sloshed dangerously in her cup, close to spilling out and onto the expensive and sensitive equipment. "Get me his coordinates. Lock onto his position."
She was up and out of her chair as she was barking out the command, slipping a yellow jump disk over her neck. Her hands were shaking with adrenaline, nerves, and too much caffeine; she was going to find him this time. They were closer than they'd ever been; never before had she made a jump as a live video feed of the Doctor was being transmitted.
"Wait, Rose, what are you doing?" Mickey said, crossing over to where she stood. "Don't be stupid, put that down."
"We need the Doctor," she said through clenched teeth. "And we've found him. I won't let him slip away again. Now do you have the coordinates or not?"
Rose looked over at George, who nodded meekly. He'd never seen Rose get this intense before.
"Just wait a minute, babe…"
"We might not have a minute!" Rose yelled, whirling around to glare at Mickey. "By the time you send me through, he could already be gone! I need your help, Mickey, please."
He sighed, and took a long look at his friend. She was pale and thin, with dark circles beginning to take up residence under her eyes. The leather jacket she never took off anymore was zipped up to her breastbone, with the jumper disk resting on her sternum. Aside from the slightly manic and haggard appearance, her eyes were bright and fiery, determination burning deep within them.
Mickey sighed and nodded, stepping away from her and to the launch sequence panel of the cannon.
"Thanks, Mick," she murmured.
"Just be careful," he warned sharply. "We don't need another acid rain incident."
Rose winced. On one of her first jumps, the environment of the planet she'd landed on was not habitable to humans. The rain was acidic, and the air was thin and barely breathable. Rose nearly suffocated by the time the 30 minutes were up. By the time she jumped home, she had burns across most of her body and was almost unconscious from oxygen deprivation.
The Torchwood medical doctors kept her under observation overnight. But the following morning, all of her burns had healed, and her lungs showed no signs of the distress they'd been put under. They called it a miracle, and lauded their healing efforts; Rose and Mickey were a little more suspicious.
"I'll be fine, Mick, now send me through," she ordered firmly.
Mickey nodded and said, "George, send the coordinates through."
"One more thing, Mickey," Rose said. "Don't pull me back after thirty minutes. I'll jump myself home. If I've found the Doctor, the last thing I need is to be pulled back here by you lot."
Mickey nodded, and inputted the launch sequence, firing his friend through the Void.
xXxXx
Rose hated the cannon jumps. They hurt. The initial burning sensation of being ripped apart, then the stinging sensation of being put back together were the most unpleasant feeling she'd ever been through. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, and vibrating with energy.
Her feet hit solid ground, and she gasped. Her head was spinning, and she clenched her eyes closed. She heard voices, terrified voices, and she finally opened her eyes. She saw the same few people that were on the video monitor, but now right in front of her. Devastatingly, Rose didn't see the Doctor anywhere.
"Where did she come from?"
"She's not safe!"
"But what if she's here to help?"
"I saw her on the monitor right after we crashed... She was calling for the Doctor."
"They're working in cahoots!"
"She's not safe!"
Voices began jumbling together, shouting over each other, as they looked between each other with frightened eyes. They looked like a bunch of skittish wild animals, and they were making her head hurt.
"Shut it!" Rose yelled, reaching into her pocket for the psychic paper she always kept there.
Upon finding herself stranded in Pete's World, she'd had nothing but her mobile, TARDIS key, and borrowed psychic paper in her pockets. The latter came in handy quite often.
She flipped it open, making the paper flash her Torchwood credentials. These people looked as though they could use an authoritative figure right about now.
"My name is Rose," she said firmly. "I'm here to help. Can you tell me what's gone wrong?"
They all began talking all at once, no one voice distinguishable amidst the cacophony of sound.
"Oi, fingers on lips!" she shouted, moving to cover her own in demonstration.
They all gave her a startled look, but did as she asked, except for one woman. A middle aged woman with her hair clipped back and dressed more sharply than the rest of her companions kept her hands resolutely at her sides. She was looking at Rose with an odd mixture of condescension and curiosity. Rose shivered slightly as she met the woman's stare; something within this woman's cold, lifeless eyes screamed danger.
Pushing past the discomfort, irritation flashed within Rose. She didn't have time for this. Coupled with the crushing disappointment of not finding the Doctor, she'd rather not deal with stubborn humans at the moment.
Sensing this woman would not cooperate, she settled for getting the story from her.
"You want to tell me what's going on, then, Ms…?" Rose asked, more sharply than she'd intended.
"Nothing's the matter," she said, and Rose's blood ran cold when she heard a second, achingly familiar voice repeat the words that came out of the woman's mouth.
Rose looked around wildly until her eyes finally landed on the frozen form of the Doctor. He was crouched in the corner of the vehicle, facing a wall. His body was stiff and trembling.
"Oh my God. Doctor!"
Rose ran over to where he was crouched, and lowered herself in front of him. His eyes were wide and glossy, staring right through her. His lips were parted slightly, and the tendons in his neck were strained. His Adam's apple bobbed tightly in his throat.
"Be careful," the woman warned. "He might infect you, too. I'd stay away from him. He's not safe."
Rose stared at the Doctor in horror as he began repeating the woman, word for word, choking out the warning. Tears were gathered in his eyes, and she felt her own arising. She cupped his cheek gently and kissed his forehead; he was warm and clammy.
"Doctor, if you can hear me, I'm going to fix this," she whispered, tracing her thumbs over his feverish cheekbones. "I'm going to stop this."
She stood up again and blinked away any moisture from her eyes, and said, "Alright you lot. Someone please tell me what's happened. From the beginning. And you, ma'am, can just keep your mouth shut."
Rose scanned the small crowd of seven people before landing on a black woman wearing an official suit and name tag. Crusader Tours. What sort of a name tag didn't even have a name on it? Never mind, she'd figure it out later.
Rose turned to face the woman and asked, "Can you tell me everything that's happened since you all got on this...whatever this is?"
The Hostess introduced everyone except herself, and then told Rose about the tour bus headed for the sapphire waterfalls, and everything that had gone wrong since: the mechanical failure, the knocking, the possession of Sky, which had apparently led to the possession of the Doctor.
Rose listened with rapt attention, filing away every bit of information she was being given, hoping for something that would help save the Doctor.
"How do you know him, anyways? I saw you on the video monitor, even though the ship had no power."
Rose turned to a younger kid: Jethro, she remembered the Hostess saying.
"I worked with the Doctor some time ago," Rose answered vaguely. "I didn't know he'd be here. I got a distress call and…"
"But you aren't actually part of the Crusaders company, are you?" a woman, Val, asked scathingly. "How did you know where to find us? You just showed up out of nowhere, and immediately know who this Doctor person is. For all we know, you could be just like him. Helping him, helping it spread..."
Rose stared at her incredulously, desperately trying to reign in the passengers' emotions.
"I'm just trying to help," Rose defended, hating the way her voice wavered.
"Help who?" Val demanded. "Us or the Doctor?"
"Everyone. All of you," Rose said calmly.
"You seem pretty keen on helping that Doctor bloke, though."
"Well from what you've been saying, it doesn't sound like you've been too keen on helping him!" Rose shouted, her eyes dancing between all seven passengers.
"Then you're just as bad as him!" Biff said. "He's infected, he'll infect us all! And you're helping him do it!"
Rose could barely get a word in edge-wise as everyone began yelling again. This time, she knew she wouldn't be able to silence them; the mob-mentality was too frenzied and they'd all banded together.
Rose heard a mirthless chuckle from beside her, and heard it repeated by the Doctor behind her. The sound sent chills up her spine.
"See," Sky said. "That's how he does it. He makes you fight. Creeps in your head and whispers. Listen. Just listen. That's him, inside."
Horrified, Rose listened as this woman escalated everyone's panic, and she listened as the Doctor choked out the same, haunting words.
"Shut up!" Rose shouted as the other passengers became more and more panicked the more Sky (and the Doctor) talked.
Rose listened with barely-contained dread as the passengers began threatening to throw the Doctor off the bus.
"No, you can't!" she pleaded, moving to stand in front of him. "Please, it's not him, it's her! He hasn't done anything! He's sick, or injured, or something! She's done something to him! Please, help me!"
"Throw him out!" Sky urged, Rose's pleas falling on deaf ears. "Get rid of him! Now!"
From behind her, the Doctor repeated these orders. She glanced down and saw he was pale and trembling, tears clouding his eyes. Naked fear was written across his face. His neck was tight with tension, as though he desperately wished he could defend himself, or at least stop parroting, but couldn't. Rose's heart broke, and her resolve strengthened. They wouldn't lay a hand on him so long as she was still breathing.
Rose suddenly heard a subtle beeping noise; her jumper was charged up and ready to send her back home, back to safety. Rose ignored the signal; there was no way she was leaving the Doctor here with this madness, with no way to defend himself.
She watched as two men stalked towards her, their eyes manic and trained on the Doctor's frozen form.
"Get away from him," she warned them hotly, planting herself in front of the Doctor.
"Throw her out, too!" Val snapped. "Together they'll kill us all!"
The older man (a professor, if Rose remembered correctly) grabbed her around the torso, hauling her away from the Doctor. She thrashed wildly, hitting and clawing at any piece of the man's skin that she could reach. She finally elbowed him in the stomach. He released her as he exhaled sharply.
Rose rushed to the Doctor and wrapped her arms around the his slight frame, trying to drag him away from the man, Biff, who was trying to drag him to the bus door. When the professor aided the man dragging the Doctor away, Rose felt herself getting pulled along with him. The men were egged on by both Sky and Val. Panic and desperation welled up in her chest as she cried out for them to listen.
"Do it!" Sky commanded. "Do it now! Faster! That's the way! You can do it! Molto bene! Allons-y."
Tears began leaking down Rose's cheeks as she heard the Doctor's phrases being uttered by this monster, and then again from the Doctor's own mouth. But they sounded all wrong, nothing at all like the Doctor's cheerful inflection.
"Please," Rose begged. "Don't do this."
From across the room, Rose heard the Hostess whisper in horror, "That's his voice. She's taken his voice!"
Rose locked eyes with the woman, begging for help.
"The starlight waits," Sky said, her eyes closing in anticipation. "The emptiness, the Midnight sky!"
"It's her!" the Hostess cried, trying to reason with passengers who wouldn't (couldn't) be reasoned with.
Her cries fell on deaf ears as the professor and Biff tried to unhook the Doctor's foot from one of the seat legs. They almost had him loose, working harder as Sky and the Doctor ordered them to throw them off the bus. Rose didn't know what exactly awaited them off the bus, but she knew it wasn't pleasant.
"She's taken his voice!" the Hostess insisted, stepping out from the circle of other passengers.
Rose watched in panic as the two men finally freed the Doctor's foot. They were almost to the door now…
Rose closed her eyes against her oncoming demise, until finally she heard a cry of surprise. She looked up to see the Hostess wrap her arms around Sky and drag her to the door. When the door opened, Rose was nearly blinded by the light of the outside world.
The Hostess began counting, and after six horribly long seconds, both she and Sky disappeared into the light.
The Doctor shuddered in Rose's arms, his muscles unclenching. He collapsed on his stomach, panting, as Rose released him.
"It's gone," he whispered breathlessly. "It's gone. It's gone, it's gone, it's gone, it's gone. It's gone. It's gone. It's gone, it's gone, it's gone. It's gone, it's gone, it's gone."
The utter relief and desperation in the Doctor's voice broke Rose's heart. She gently laid her hand on his shoulder, and he flinched away, recoiling at her touch. She took her hand back, trying to clamp down on the hurt. But of course he wouldn't want to be touched; the last thing he'd felt were hands dragging him to his death.
Rose instead watched helplessly as he continued gasping for breath.
"I said it was her."
Rose turned around, a deep righteous anger building up in her belly. Val, one of the main proponents of the Doctor's demise, was standing right in front of Rose, attempting to defend herself and her actions.
The fear and anger and malice boiled over inside Rose and she snapped, "Oh, piss off!"
She glared at Val, and the other passengers, warning them with her expression to stay away from her and the Doctor.
"Rose?"
She turned at the sound of the Doctor's call; he sounded so small and afraid, nothing like the strong, confident man she knew. Rose turned around to look at him, all anger draining from her. His jaw was slack in disbelief. His eyes frantically scanned hers, searching for something.
"Hello," she said softly, a small smile turning her lips up.
The Doctor stared at her mutely for a moment, before reaching out for her face. His hand rested gently on her cheek, and she nuzzled into his palm.
"Oh, Rose!" he whispered, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her to him.
Rose's panic and adrenaline finally disappeared as she collapsed, exhausted, into the Doctor's chest. She held him just as tightly as he was holding her, rocking them gently side to side. Tears of joy welled up in her eyes at finally finding him, and getting out, unscathed, of this nightmare. She buried her nose in his neck and inhaled the familiar scent of tea and time and the familiar musk that was the Doctor.
"Rose," he murmured reverently into her hair, his hands clutching at her jacket. "I didn't think you were real. I thought you–"
His lips pressed against her forehead causing a shiver to ripple down her spine. He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. Incredulity and disbelief shone brightly, but beneath that was a small glimmer of hope
"You're real," he whispered, awe-struck. "You're here. You're really here. How–?"
Rose pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips to silence him.
"I'm here, I'm real," she assured softly. "I'll explain later, promise."
He smiled goofily at her and planted a longer, firmer kiss to her lips. Rose froze for just a moment before returning the pressure and threading her fingers through his hair. He hummed his appreciation against her mouth as his arms wrapped around her waist. His hands clasped and unclasped her jacket before finally cupping the back of her neck to deepen the kiss.
The Doctor suddenly pulled away with a satisfyingly wet pop, leaving Rose slightly light-headed, but absolutely giddy. He, however, looked absolutely furious, and Rose's heart sunk. Maybe he hadn't meant to snog her so thoroughly. Maybe he'd been trying for a quick, chaste kiss as he'd done in Rome all those many years ago when he was overjoyed at being alive.
Rose bit her lip and began to apologize when he said darkly, "They were going to kill you. They were about to chuck you out, too!"
The Doctor glared at the two men who had been dragging them towards the doors of the bus. The fury of the Oncoming Storm was written all across his face, and everyone in the cabin flinched away.
"Doctor, it's fine..."
"Fine?" he shouted, incredulous. "Here you are, against all odds of impossibility, and they were about to kill you!"
Rose gently stroked his cheek, willing him to calm down.
"I wasn't about to let them chuck you out without a fight," Rose murmured. "But Doctor, they were scared. They didn't know what else to do. You know what it's like to have to resort to extreme measures if that's what you thought was best."
The Doctor winced, remembering the big red button that had ended his planet and people.
His shoulders slumped in resignation, and he settled for pulling Rose tighter against him, relieved to be holding her again.
He desperately hoped she wasn't a delusion concocted by his damaged psyche; that would be torture in the morning.
He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent of jasmine and vanilla and time. Beneath that, there was a stinging smell of metal and energy, probably from crossing the Void, however she'd done so.
He sat in silence with her for many long minutes, before he heard the announcement that the backup vehicle was three minutes out. He silently thanked all of the gods that this ordeal had been resolved before even more humans could get involved.
Suddenly, the Doctor remembered exactly how he'd gotten free from the oppressive, unknown entity that had enslaved his mind.
"The Hostess," he began softly, playing with Rose's fingers. "What was her name?"
Guilt sliced deeply through Rose; she'd never gotten the woman's name, the woman who saved her life, and the Doctor's, and everyone else's. Glancing around, Rose saw with shame and an irrational irritation that nobody aboard the cruise ship new the Hostess's name.
The Doctor bowed his head silently, a deep sadness weighing down his shoulders. Rose curled up against him, resting her head against his hearts. She listened to the calming, reassuring sound of the bipartite rhythm and offered what little comfort she could through their embrace as they waited for help to come.