Chapter One: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

Disclaimer:If you recognize it, it's not mine. Ari is, though. All mine!

AN: Lots of thanks to LovelyAmberLight for her encouragement, helpful insights, and not yelling at me for disturbing her yet again with another inane question or begging for advice.

AN***: Rewritten 2-8-18

"When you want to cuss, disguise it. Say 'son of a biscuit' instead. It distracts people from what you're really saying while they are trying to figure out if they really heard you say it. Or laughing at it. Either way, it'll take them at least five minutes to realize you said something you shouldn't've." ~ James Carpenter

Rosemary Arianna Carpenter. Rose for short…at least for the first twelve years of her life. The car accident had changed so much. That one moment of inattention. All her fault. She wasn't worthy to keep her much–loved 'Rose' after that. She insisted that she be called 'Ari' afterward. She never told anyone why; not the real reason. Only that she needed to separate her with–parents life from her without–parents life. As if the very fact that she didn't have parents anymore wasn't enough. But because she had stuck to her story, eventually people had accepted it.

They forgot that it was odd for a fifteen-year-old to make such claims. Forgot that grief can manifest in a myriad of ways. Forgot about survivor's guilt and PTSD. After all, she was a well–adjusted young woman. Doing the grown–up thing of helping raise her sister. She was responsible, helpful, patient, kind, and mature. They forgot that a fifteen–year–old, having just lost both her parents, shouldn't be any of those things. She should scream and cry. Be angry, belligerent, and distraught. Her entire world had been turned upside down. 'Normal' wasn't normal.

She never forgot. A promise made a decade before kept her at "Ari"… Because she had finally accepted that there wasn't anything she could do that would make up for killing her parents. She would never again be Rose. She kept telling herself that it was fine. That she had made her peace with such a fact. Yet the very act of doing so niggled the thought that she obviously hadn't made her peace, if she kept having to recall it. She ignored that particular niggle with intense ferocity.

And every time she heard someone call her Rose, all of those memories, guilt, and self–hatred flared again. "Don't you dare call me that." She hissed through clenched teeth at the Eccleston–lookalike.

He immediately raised his hands in a non–threatening gesture. "I'm sorry. Having some boundaries, to help separate things, is a good idea. What would you like me to call you?" He kept his voice as gentle as he knew how, trying not to provoke her. She doubtless had been through some horrible things, though he likely would never know what they were, and would understandably be volatile.

"Ari. My name is Ari." She sighed the phrase as she couldn't keep up the anger. It wasn't his fault anyway. No one knew how much she hated the memories. She never told...not even Rob— Her eyes got wide as she frantically looked around. "Robbie! Where's Robbie?!"

The Doctor's hearts clenched sharply at the desperation he could hear in her voice. This Robbie was obviously dear to her, cherished. Robbie was most likely short for Robert. Her boyfriend? Husband? He wondered about Mickey, but a lot could happen traveling with a Time Lord. And it had been five years for her. The possibilities were nearly limitless. "I'm sorry. There wasn't anyone with you that I saw." The alley had been deserted other than his ship and the collapsed form of the blonde when he had materialized. "I'm so sorry."

Blue–purple eyes narrowed, sparking protectiveness and love dangerously. "Show me," again her tone was almost a growl.

He wondered how often he would hear this new Rose's—Ari's—emphasis. What had he done to the poor girl to turn that happy, fun–loving 19-year-old into...this? What would he do? Or, perhaps, she was more like him than he thought? He nodded at her and gestured for her to follow him, since he didn't know if—when?—she had ever been in his infirmary before. Mentally, he reorganized the room and corresponding hall to be closer to the control room.

Ari blinked as her brain began to seriously wake up from its unconscious, disoriented state. This was way too odd. Christopher Eccleston in his Ninth Doctor garb, was leading her down a corridor that was obviously designed to look like the TARDIS. What was going on? Where was Robbie? Ari had been about to die! Burned alive or buried alive. Sister in her arms. So, if Ari was here… Why wasn't Robbie?

It had been a family joke that Ari looked so much like Billie Piper. If she dyed her hair blonde, cut and styled it correctly, the two were almost twins. A few people had even gone so far as to comment 'had she ever thought of being a stunt–double for the famous actress?' Bone structure, facial characteristics, body type and build. All were incredibly similar. Naturally, Arianna was more auburn, dimples appeared when she smiled deeply, and light freckles were across her nose, cheekbones, and down her arms. There were other coincidences that lined up, to the amusement of the Carpenters: Rosemary as a first name, so close to Rose and Ari's mother's name was Jacqueline, 'Jackie', with her maiden name of Tyler before she'd married.

So, when the epitome of the Ninth Doctor called her Rose, it actually made a bit of sense. Of course, she had to wonder where the real Rose happened to be. Not to mention, why was she in Doctor Who to begin with? And it did seem to be…well, real…not a studio set. The hallway went on forever in a straight line; much longer than anyone would build for camera setups and shots, it was too impractical. If they needed a long shot that involved a lot of room, they'd build a shorter one and paint a background that appeared 3D, or green–screen it in later.

Going off the assumption that she was actually in the presence of the real Ninth Doctor, how did that make sense? She had been about. to. die. Her dying sister in. her. arms. If Robbie wasn't here with her…

Ari wiggled and stretched a bit as certain ideas came to mind; one in particular. Pulling one arm as far as she could with the other. Taking a deep breath in, only to let it out. Wiggling her toes—she was still barefoot—on the hallway floor. She shivered as one simple fact was quite clear: she wasn't in any pain. She could breathe easily. No cuts on her feet or bruises on her arms. No twinges from pulled muscles in her back. Ari struggled not to panic as that one particular idea became much more likely.

Eccleston—was she supposed to call him Doctor?—pulled open a door to gesture her out. When had they reached the outside? She didn't recall, but she could think about such things later. Robbie was more important.

Ari darted into a dark, dank, dirty alleyway and struggled not to wrinkle her nose at the stale smell of the air, the rotten garbage decaying in a dumpster not ten feet from her. "Robbie?!" she called out sharply. "Robbie, you answer me. Now!"

A drip of rainwater falling into the silence was her only reply.

xxxxxx

The Doctor's hearts nearly broke as he was forced to watch all hope fade from the blonde's eyes. It took over twenty minutes of following her, making sure she was alright, not willing to leave her alone, before the girl slowed to a stop. She had desperately looked behind every bin, under every pile, inside every box and hidey–hole. She had run down the street, calling at the top of her lungs for Robbie. Each scream more despondent than the last. When she finally quieted, he gently led her back to his ship, closed the door, and positioned her in the pilot's chair where she had promptly curled her body around her knees, hugging them to her chest.

Oh, how he knew that expression in her eyes. He saw it every time he looked in the mirror: hopelessness. He knew that his own future self's actions had done this to her. This was his fault. Yet another life he had destroyed. He didn't know what to say. There was nothing that could make this better. He could never make up for this. Whether family or friend, he couldn't go back to get Robbie. The future Rose—Ari—had come from no longer existed; by the act of going into the past, her very presence changed the future.

He wondered if she had any idea of what she had agreed to; if she understood the true ramifications. Her life experiences, her memories, would be used to change the future. His personal future. The future of a Time Lord. Thereby, the past she remembered—his potential future—would be erased. Yet, her memories would not change.

She was no mere ordinary human that he could pull cheap tricks and change her past to affect her present. She was a time traveler of epic proportions. First his companion; now acting as a… He flinched as he realized the implications. She was upholding the responsibility, burden, and duty of life; making sure that the universe kept spinning. She was insomuch acting, in no small part, as a Time Lord, human though she may be.

So much time travel would ensure her memories stayed intact, even with the paradox. It was part of the curse of a Time Lord. The Doctor himself remembered every alternate timeline he had experienced, every paradox lived and destroyed in his efforts to end the Time War.

Ro—Ari had become a paradox.

He would never be able to let her live on her own. It was too dangerous. If she fell into the wrong hands and her knowledge of this worse future, and more specifically what led to its creation, then the universe itself would be threatened. He could think of no other reason than the breakdown of the universe itself for implementing such a tactic as sending a companion back in time to change his future. He couldn't even give her to another Time Lord to take care of—thus giving her the courtesy of not forcing her to look upon her tormentor every day—because he was the last. He had killed his species; limiting her options.

He would certainly do his best to give her as much latitude as possible. However, he also had a duty and responsibility to Time. Given that he was the last of his kind, that burden was even more important. There was no one left to fix Time if he made a mistake.

With that in mind, he gave her an understanding smile. "Know this will be...difficult...for you. Do my best to make it as painless as possible." She snorted softly, but he acted as if he didn't hear and just kept going. "Don't know how much my counterpart explained, so I'll start from the top." She frowned in slight confusion, which made him pause before he continued. He couldn't make any sort of phrasing that a human could misconstrue as being her fault. He didn't blame her at all. But if he wasn't careful, then he could say it in such a way that she misinterpreted the content. "I understand that you have knowledge of my personal future. But you're here to change one event." More frowning from her, which made him even more careful to gather and organize his words effectively. How could he phrase this so a human could comprehend the vastness of what she had done? Did she even have the ability to understand something this large in scale? Perhaps getting 'the big picture' into a full, manageable concept wasn't important right now. However, she did need to know the parameters and limitations immediately.

"Need to remember that you can't change anything else, Ro—Ari." She winced when he almost said Rose, changing it mid–word. He hated to see the pain in her eyes when he called her the wrong thing. He had dealt her enough agony for a lifetime, and it was going to get worse before things were resolved. "Five years of memories. Five years of things that you can't change, R—Ari." He would have to get used to calling her the other name. Several years of thinking of her as Rose—while he was talking himself into coming back for her—would definitely take awhile to reorient in his mind. Considering what she had consented to attempt for the betterment of the universe, it was the least he could do for her in return. He would probably be making many concessions for this girl in the coming years.

It still wouldn't equal her sacrifice.

"It is imperative that you understand this," he intoned earnestly, trying to drive home the importance. Her hopeless, dead eyes almost robbed him of breath. In that one moment, he made a silent vow to do whatever it took to see that carefree smile of the Rose he had first met alight on her face again. "I'm sorry," he said solemnly. "Knowing the future is a great burden." It was a curse. Having the foreknowledge of death, trying to prevent it and being unable to, could be nothing else. A curse that he had given her. People died around him, even while trying with all his ability to save everyone. And his counterpart had given her the burden of having to watch. "I understand and I'll do my best to help you."

A long pause as she seemed to absorb his words. "So, I'll be traveling with you."

"Yes."

"...For how long?"

He winced internally. He would never be able to leave her alone. She was his responsibility now. His actions had created this physical, living, paradox. He had to take care of her. There was no one else to do so.

However, she had dealt with so much today. Did he really want to add to the pile right now? He could explain further later. After this had settled in a bit. Finally, he gave a smile and said encouragingly, "You can keep traveling for as long as you like." It wasn't quite a lie. When–slash–if she ever decided to stop—after the universe–ending event had been resolved of course—he would have to stop too. Settle down with her. He shivered at the very idea of him in one time and place for long. He had never been the settling–down type. But he couldn't leave her alone.

In a half dead delivery that increased his worry for her mental state, she uttered a request. "How about we go to the end of the world? Since mine's ended already." He idly wondered at her phrasing. Did she already understand that she could never go back? That the alternate future her presence represented was already gone? Her words certainly gave that impression. He had known that Rose—Ari damnit!—was intelligent, but this was more evidence of the fact.

xxxxxx

Arianna tried desperately not to break down and cry. Her worst fear had been realized. It made perfect sense. She had been about to burn to death, her sister dying with her in her very arms. Yet Ari had awoken feeling no injury on a fictitious ship with a make–believe alien.

The control room had convinced her of the authenticity of her new environment. (At least to a point.) There was no possible way that her imagination was good enough to encompass the unearthly, ethereal beauty of the time rotor's swirling mass of ever–changing colors, reminding her of the Aurora Borealis, that seemed to have emotions of their own; moving fast, then slow, then in swirls, then circles, then fast spins. Never still, always moving, and managing to convey with their color and movement an emotion as easily as reading a facial expression. At the moment, the swirls were blends of blues and greens mixed with the over-all golden, giving a relaxed, contented feel.

The television show had never shown such detail and intricacy in the coral–esque walls and columns done in red-orange-yellow shades and hues. There were actual tiny carvings in them—Gallifreyan circle–writing—that gave the impression of pocked coral from afar, as the television had shown. This console room, now that she was staring ahead of her in a desperate attempt to forget that Robbie wasn't there, wasn't really orange. It was more of a reddish gold with flares of orange running through. Considering what she knew of Gallifrey, it was probably meant to simulate the tones and textures of his planet. Reminders of a home he no longer could visit. A planet he had destroyed, but still longed for just as all people yearned for home.

No, she would never have been able to think of something this wonderful on her own.

Which left only a couple of possibilities that she was aware of. One, she had been transported to another reality. Unlikely, because why hadn't Robbie come with her? So, that led to her final conclusion.

She was dead.

This was hell.

If this had all been going on and little Robbie was with her, she would think it was either heaven, or another reality. But without Robbie? No, this had to be hell. It wasn't like a ten–year–old could accrue enough sins to earn eternal damnation. Not her Robbie, who liked to save lizards, wished on ladybugs, and screamed at the sight of spiders.

The Doctor—also known as her judge, punisher, and persecutor (demon?)—had already explained how her little personal hell would work. Until he determined that she had saved enough lives through her knowledge of Doctor Who, she would stay in hell. 'Traveling' was obviously a euphemism. Hell was all about absolving one's sins: punishment. Not being able to see her family, even after she had died, and—how did he phrase it?—'having the burden of future knowledge' to torment her with the number of people who could have been saved if she had done the correct thing. If she had only done such–and–such, she could have saved them all, et cetra, and her duration in hell would be shorter. 'Only change one event' was obviously to let her know just how screwed she was; how long she would be here. Only being able to save one life per episode would mean she would be in this horrible place for decades.

Assuming that they equated one absolution per sin with one life per episode saved. But what about if she couldn't save anyone? Or her change had even more people dying in the end? Where would that leave her? The possibilities were seemingly endless and no answers were forthcoming.

Ari wondered if she also would be forced to have sex with this…Doctor. Originally, she had thought that a 19-year-old having coitus with a 900-year-old was squeaky enough she had almost stopped watching the reboot. She usually didn't have a problem with age gaps, even large ones (her parents had been 14 years apart in age themselves and happily married over twenty years) but that wasn't any normal age gap. That was a further–than–left–field type of robbing the cradle!

However, this was hell. Rape in hell wouldn't exactly be out of place.

She blinked over as he began to practically bounce around the hexagonal control panel surrounding the cylinder of swirly colored feelings. He gave her a bright grin as he passed her: pulling levers, grinding gears, and pushing buttons. His voice had a more solemn edge than his movements suggested as he said, almost gently, "You can't spend all your time thinking about dying. As if you're going to get killed by eggs or beef or global warming or asteroids." A loud 'ding!' announced their arrival, following a particularly hard shove of his arm to a rod. The classic sound of what River Song had described as the parking brake being left on had been a much quieter echo in reality, reverberating mostly in Ari's feet, than as depicted on the show.

Yet, somehow it still gave her that small burst of happiness she associated with watching the series. Able to finally relax, curled up on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate after a long day, eagerly awaiting to live vicariously through the characters. She had loved it. It had been her "me time".

He held out a hand to her and pulled her to her feet, guiding her back to the entrance. "You need to take time to imagine the impossible. That, just maybe, you survive." He threw open the doors theatrically, showing her a view of a large room with one entire wall and the ceiling as clear plexiglass. At an angle to her was the sun, but centerpoint was a gorgeous view of the Earth like she had seen in science textbooks. "This is the year 5.5/apple/26. Five billion years into the future." He gestured to the massive columns and basically the satellite itself that they had landed upon. "Five billion years. Humans survive."

He stared deeply into her eyes, trying to help her understand what he was really telling her. She simply blinked at him, uncomprehending. He gave a small sad half–smile as he explained further. "You will survive." Even the most horrible things eventually, with time, passed. If she could hold on, endure, it would get better. He gave her that silent promise.

A pleasant feminine voice came over a loudspeaker system. "Shuttles five and six now docking. Guests are reminded that Platform One forbids the use of weapons, teleportation, and religion. Earth Death is scheduled for fifteen thirty–nine."

The timbre was particularly unique in Doctor Who, alerting Ari to the episode. She had been joking about going to the end of the world. But apparently the Doctor had taken her literally. Ari wanted to facepalm. He was 900 years old; didn't he understand bleak sarcasm when he heard it?!

They were in a large room even more beautiful than the show had been able to depict. It was done in dark wood veneer and stains, with hanging chandeliers between every dark–stained pillar on the outer walls to their left and right. But the biggest feature of the room that caught your attention immediately was the 'window'. It started at the wall straight across from the door, and went from the floor to the ceiling, up and then became the ceiling. The whole room was built to observe whatever was outside Platform One. Currently, that view was the Earth itself.

It was beautiful. Majestic, really.

However, that didn't change things. "I don't want to be here," Ari whispered. She knew what was coming. It had been tragic enough when she had seen it through a twelve–inch television screen. In person? Where she was actually meeting these people? No. "Please don't make me."

xxxxxx

The Doctor frowned down at her in momentary confusion. She had asked to see the end of the world. Why didn't she…? His forehead eased, then wrinkled again. "You've done this before."

Ari hesitated before answering with a single nod. "I know what's going to happen, yes."

"I thought we talked about this. You can only change the one event that brought you here. That's all! Everything else, everything, has to happen exactly as it did!" He was yelling, angry. Angry at himself for not making himself clear. Angry at his counterpart for not explaining. Angry at what he's going to force her to endure. Angry at her for being so human.

Ari matched his raised voice with her own, eyes flashing dangerously again. "People died the first time!"

"Then they are going to die again!" A part of him was grateful for her rage. It was the most emotion she had shown in almost twenty minutes. That didn't prevent what had to be done. He saw her freeze at his words, shock clear in her posture and eyes. His anger fizzled as he ran a hand through his hair. "Ari, nothing can change except what occurred to bring you here. Visit the same places, the same adventures...the same results. You can't do anything that you didn't do before."

"People are going to die." She stressed the last word, as if he didn't understand.

"I know," he answered solemnly. There were always people who died around him, no matter how hard he tried to save them all.

"If I do have to experience all this, why won't you let me save them? Or at least try?" she was almost pleading, salt water trailing down her cheeks.

He wished he could let her. She was breaking his hearts with her tone and tears. He tried to explain, though doubted that she was calm enough to think clearly and be logical. On top of that, she was human. The intricacies of the Laws of Time took over a century for him to learn in the Academy. The chances she would understand were slim. However, considering the circumstances, she deserved at least an attempt at an explanation. "Ari…" he sighed as he tried to put things in a way she could accept. "The future you came from, the future you remember, no longer exists. Will never exist. Coming to the past has ensured that.

"However, the major events should be almost identical, even if the smaller details are not. We need the major points to be what you remember. So that, when the event that brought you here occurs again, we can change it. Everything has to be the same now, so that we can change that one event at the end." He saw her eyes betray her resistance and tried another tactic. "Think dominoes, Ari. You change something, it's like tipping a domino, which tips the next and the next and the next. Timeline changes too much from what you remember, we may not be able to prevent the event that brought you here. Universe could end again." Even the thought of it made his breath catch and hearts clench in dread. The whole of time and space lost a second time. He'd have to send someone back again. He'd have to figure out how he'd sent someone back the first time…

Her expression turned thoughtful, speculative. "You keep saying 'the major events'. What would count as a major event?"

This was the harder part. "Impossible for you to know." He saw her surprise, then a flash of defiance. He hurried to clarify. "Someone experiencing a smaller event could influence them toward a larger event. Or they tell the story to someone else who does. It's all dominoes, Rose." He winced at her flare of pain and anger; she had actually physically jerked at him saying her former name. That kind of reaction bore noting. "Sorry. Ari. To a non–linear, non–subjective viewpoint, Time is like a big ball of string. Bits of Time touching other bits, directing how it will twist and turn. Change a little bit, and the thread changes how it lays; changes how the threads next to it lay, which changes the ones next to those, and so on until the whole ball is different to how it started.

"Little things affect big things. And I'm sorry," he finished solemnly, looking deeply into her eyes to attempt to convey just how important this was. How necessary. "I'm so sorry. But whether someone is alive or dead, even how they die or are saved, is a very big thing." He saw understanding fill her eyes and mentally breathed a sigh of relief.

xxxxxx

Ari turned to look out at the beautiful, mesmerizing visage of the blue, green, and white planet as his words brought to mind the episode "Father's Day", when Rose went back and saved her father, who had died soon after she was born. Just saving that one seemingly insignificant life of Peter Tyler, the man who had never really done anything significant to influence the world… Saving him had caused those things to come, to "sterilize the wound"—wasn't that what the Doctor had said about them? That they were like antibodies or something?—and the world had almost ended. Everyone on Earth being eaten, vanishing completely.

What else had the Doctor said that episode? When the almost–married couple had come to him? It had always stuck with her…

"I don't know what this is all about. And I know we're not important"

"Who said you're not important?"

To the Doctor—to Time itself—there was no such thing as an unimportant person. Every life mattered. So his words and logic did make sense in some ways.

However, there was a rather large something that was slowly struggling to make itself known. He kept saying that she had come back in time to prevent some future event. Kept calling her Rose. In "Father's Day", Rose had changed her own past. That was what caused the flying people–eaters to come. If Ari was indeed what the demon–Doctor claimed, then he would be right. Everything he said made sense, if viewed from that angle.

Not to mention, those flying people–eaters had come because a seemingly insignificant person had lived. What about at the end of "Waters of Mars", when the Doctor tried to change a fixed point. Save someone who had to die. He'd almost destroyed the universe then, because Adelaide's death had influenced so much of that future. But the others from the base had been able to live without too many issues—though who knew how they had explained suddenly going from the Mars expedition to being on Earth. Maybe UNIT or Torchwood had fixed things for them. But the Doctor's personal future wasn't really influenced by those people…was it?

However, more to the point, Rosemary Arianna Carpenter was NOT Rose Tyler, no matter the stunning similarities. Did that mean that Ari could change whatever she wanted? Save whoever she wanted? Did she dare chance it?

A slice of intense fear slid down her spine at the idea that her actions would make those people–eaters appear. That she would be the reason the world would end. Was this her true hell? Being forced to watch people die that she could save? Or the trepidation that attempting to save people would end everything in the universe?

The demon–Doctor's soothing baritone entered her thoughts. "Breathe, Ari. Be alright." Until he said something, she hadn't even realized she had been holding it. "Breathe." He pounded on her back once, forcing her to take a gasping gulp of life–giving air. "There you go. Keep breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Breathe." It was almost as if she could hear his voice in her mind, urging her—or commanding her—to do as he said. "Just a panic attack, Ari. It'll pass. Just breathe and it'll pass." His hand made soothing circles on her back as his voice in her head burrowed itself deeper, or seemed to, and forced her lungs to work normally. Taking control since she had momentarily lost her ability to do so.

What was probably minutes later, but gave the impression of hours—though she didn't know for sure if it was minutes, hours, seconds, or even years—she finally managed to gather herself and work her lungs on her own. "There. Told you it would pass." His bright tone encouraged her to believe him. Or was he trying to cheer her up? Or maybe congratulating her on the success? Or was it just how he was? Stating facts? She remembered that Nine had alternately been really morose and really happy, jumping between extremes like a jackrabbit.

Which led her to the thought… Could she really trust what she had seen on the show for what was to occur? This was hell. Who knew what the demons could, or would, change? Could she ask him? She probably couldn't ask directly, he'd know the jig was up and it could get even worse for her. What if they chose to put her in the hands of Dr. Hannibal Lector instead? Or Mycroft Holmes? Or Kilgrave? Ari almost had another panic attack at that idea.

So, she needed to ask the demon–Doctor in such a way that she didn't give away she knew where she really was. Hesitantly, she began, barely whispering, "There's no way that I can remember all the details. All the things that… were said and done." She had almost said 'that Rose had said and done' but managed to catch herself in time. "I blocked out some of them." That was certainly true. Like that horrible episode in season three with that moronic Doctor club. What had it been called? Some girl's name. LOLA? LARA? LEENA? Something with an 'L'. Ari hated that episode and always immediately shut it off whenever it came on. Same with the Midnight episode in season four. "Even if I…let people die, it won't be the same."

At least she was thinking about the reality of her situation, the Doctor thought with internal relief. The truth was, she was right. "Your very presence has changed the future, Ari. Just by being here; your twenty-four-year-old self versus your nineteen-year-old self. Even if you didn't know the future, your reactions would be different because you are essentially a different person than you were. Your life experiences and memories affect how you view the world around you, how you act and react. The timelines would differ."

Ari began to feel a bit lightheaded again as he continued. "However, that is exactly the reason you should make sure what you remember happening, does."

"So that things stay as close to the original timeline as possible."

"Until that end event, yeah."

"To change it and save the universe."

"Yeah." He nodded, smiling at her as if she were a dog that had done an unexpected trick. She wanted to slap him.

Instead, she looked him directly in the eye and calmly asked, "And what might that event be?" His priceless expression of stunned, poleaxed, bewilderment warmed her heart. She had no idea how terrified she had made the Time Lord with the simple question.

"You mean the event that brought me here?" she offered after a second, deciding to take pity on him. His quick nod of vehement agreement warmed her heart even more though.

I can save Robbie…?

If she understood all this correctly, then when all the episodes had run their course, she would be able to be with her sister. Hell would be over for her. She could go be with her family. But that still didn't answer the question: could she change things from what she remembered of the episodes? Did she dare chance it?

Would she be able to live with herself if she didn't at least try?