The TARDIS materialized in UNIT HQ, and the Doctor emerged. A broad grin brightened his features as he saw the Brigadier, resplendent in his finest dress uniform and decorations, seated in a wheelchair. The smile was a bit forced around the edges, and didn't quite reach his eyes, but you'd have to know him very well to see it. And once upon a time, Sarah Jane Smith had known the Doctor very well indeed.
The Doctor exited the TARDIS, wondering at the mysterious summons. He hadn't expected to see two of his oldest comrades waiting for him. Sarah Jane was mostly unchanged from the last time they'd met, but he was shocked at how old and frail the Brigadier seemed. He manufactured a smile and stepped forward to fondly clasp hands with the latter and engulf the former in a friendly bear hug.
"What's happened to you?" he asked, noting that the Brigadier was seated in a wheelchair.
"Old age, my friend. Something to which you still seem to be immune. My daughter and our friend here seem to feel the need to coddle me."
"It's going to be a long day," Sarah Jane reminded him gently.
"Nevertheless, I will stand and salute when the time comes."
"I know you will," Sarah Jane replied, squeezing his shoulder gently.
"Time for what?" the Doctor asked.
Sarah Jane stepped forward and took both his hands in her own. "Doctor, it's a memorial, for the honored dead of the Battle of Canary Wharf."
"No," he whispered harshly, all color draining from his face.
She tightened her grip on his hands, refusing to let him back away from her. "You've been invited to stand as family to Rose Tyler, and set out a plant in the new arboretum in her memory," Sarah Jane told him with infinite compassion. "The invitation came from Harriet Jones, but she didn't think you'd come if you knew she was the one asking."
"She thought right."
Sarah Jane reached up to cup his cheek in her hand, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Doctor, I gather that you've had your differences with our former Prime Minister, but it was very important to her that someone be there to honor Rose's memory. She thought it should be you. And so do I."
His face twisted in unbearable anguish. "She's not dead, Sarah. Rose isn't dead...but she's lost to me. Forever. Trapped in a parallel universe. I can't...ever..."
He broke down, then, and Sarah Jane held him while harsh sobs wracked his body.
"I suppose you could say I deserve this…you, of all people…"
"No," Sarah Jane replied emphatically. "Never. No one deserves this."
"Oh, Sarah…I miss her, so much. I don't know how…"
"I do," she replied firmly. "You lean on your friends for a while, until you're strong enough to stand on your own again. You hold onto our hands while you make her a proper farewell."
He hated to admit this, especially to Sarah Jane, but… "I did. I burned up a dying star to get the power to reach through the last remaining crack between the universes to talk to her one last time."
Sarah Jane smiled fondly and touched his cheek again. "Oh, Doctor…this face is so transparent. You're still holding on to her."
The Brigadier cleared his throat deferentially. "Sarah Jane has spoken to me of your friend. She sounds like a most extraordinary young lady," he observed.
"She is," the Doctor managed, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve.
"She deserves to have her sacrifice honored, and her name remembered," the old soldier told him quite firmly. "And you, my old friend, need to fix that tie, stand up straight, and see that it's done."
Sarah Jane's eyes shone with unshed tears as she watched this new Doctor, who seemed impossibly young just now, respond to the note of command in the Brigadier's voice and adjust his posture. She reached up to help him wrestle his disreputable tie into some semblance of decency.
A respectful young protocol officer escorted Sarah Jane, the Doctor, and the Brigadier to the space in the arboretum allotted for Rose. The Doctor knelt and gently traced the letters of her name engraved on the small brass plaque.
"This tower isn't quite so tall as the original," a voice said quietly from behind him. "A bit less of a temptation to fate. That's what we hope and pray, at any rate. And this arboretum will be a living tribute to those who were lost."
"Harriet Jones," the Doctor said quietly, without bothering to turn around.
"Doctor, today isn't about our disagreements, it's about all the people who died here on that terrible day."
"Quite right," the Doctor said tiredly, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"In the grand scheme of things, a simple shop girl from London doesn't seem at all important, but she was so very much more than that. Rose Tyler helped saved this world, Doctor, more than once, and she deserves to be remembered. I'd have planted this myself if I had to, but I think it should be done by someone who truly loved her, and that someone is you."
She knelt down beside the Doctor, in his field of view, and he sucked in his breath sharply when he saw the plant that she held. It was a rose, of course. The petals were a soft yellow, a tone so radiant that it seemed it should warm your fingers to touch it. The edges of the petals deepened to pink.
"The Sycorax called her the yellow girl," Harriet explained softly, "and I always remembered her wearing something pink, but besides that -"
"This particular hybrid…it's called 'Peace,'" the Doctor said quietly, touched beyond words at the effort this woman had put in to selecting the perfect tribute for his Rose.
"Precisely. I...it seemed..."
"It's perfect. It's absolutely perfect."
Harriet struggled a bit to maintain her composure. "You're meant to plant it here," she said, indicating the flower bed awkwardly. "I'll just...your friends should be with you."
"Stay. Please. You knew her too. Sarah?"
"Right here, Doctor." She pushed the Brigadier's wheelchair as close as possible to the flowerbed, then joined the Doctor and Harriet.
"You'll need these," the Brigadier said gently, passing her the trowel and cultivator they'd been given upon entering the arboretum. He watched in respectful silence as the two women helped the Doctor prepare the soil and set the rose bush firmly in the center of the space.
The Doctor sighed and brushed the soil from his hands, then extended his hands to the two women beside him. Sarah Jane reached up to clasp one of the Brigadier's hands.
"Pacem in Terris," Harriet whispered.
"Peace on Earth," Sarah Jane echoed.
"Indeed," the Doctor replied.
Harriet squeezed his hand once, then rose to her feet and discreetly moved away.
"Doctor, would you like a moment?" Sarah Jane asked softly.
"Yes, if you please."
She kissed his cheek, then stood and moved the Brigadier's wheelchair down the path.
The chaplain's voice echoed throughout the arboretum, something about a new heaven and a new Earth, ancient words of comfort. The lonely traveler who'd witnessed the birth and death of so very many worlds contemplated the small, beautiful piece of life set here to honor the largest, and most beautiful memory of his many lives. He reached out to brush the delicate blossoms with shaking fingertips, as silent tears traced his cheeks. "Goodbye, my Rose," he whispered.
