Jackie just about threw down the phone. She checked the clock. Tony wasn't due home from primary school for another few hours. Jackie wasn't sure what she was going to tell her son when he got home. The Doctor had become such an integral part of their little family. Tony would always want the Doctor to tell him his bedtime story because those were always "the bestest ones." Tony wanted to eat bananas because they were the Doctor's favorite food, even if he was slightly allergic.
She didn't have to worry about that now though. It was odd how a crisis made you think of the littlest things. Jackie was needed at the Torchwood Hub right at this moment, and here she was still at Tyler Manner in a slight state of shock. The thought of her baby girl, her little Rosie, all alone in the infirmary with the body, was enough to get her moving. There was time later for dealing with the death of a man she thought of as a son. Her grief could wait.
Rose hadn't moved. She was still standing at the head of the stretcher. Rose held the Doctor's hand tightly. She wasn't even sure if she could let go. It was still warm, but... There was part of her that wanted to keep on pretending that he could pull through, that there would be some remarkable recovery. Rose stared at his face. He still has a slight smile on his face, but it isn't his smile, the one he gives her when he's discovered a new way to rewire the toaster or the one he always does when he's trying to reassure her that everything is going to be okay or when he's trying to explain something that's too much for human brains to handle. The one on his face has none of that emotion, none of that life. Rose wants to cry. She wants to scream and throw things. But she can't. She isn't going to let herself. If she reacts, then he's really gone. Her Doctor is never coming back, never coming home.
"Oh sweetheart."
Rose launched herself at her mum. She needs this. She needs to be able to hold onto her mum. Maybe it's some childish notion, but her mum could make anything better, even this.
"Shh, it's alright, I've got you." Rose doesn't even realize she's whimpering or that she's finally properly crying. "I'm right here. Just let it all out."
They sat in relative silence for a while, crowded on a stiff chair that really shouldn't be supporting two people. Rose sobbed, finally letting herself be completely vulnerable. She doesn't think it helps. All the crying just made her feel emptier. Jackie rubbed circles on her daughters back, offering whatever comfort she can give. She wants to hold her and just take all the pain away. She knows how much it hurts.
When Pete had died, Jackie had been frantic, yelling at whoever would listen. She hadn't wanted to believe it. Jackie was fairly certain the only reason she had not moped for any longer than she had was the fact her little girl needed her. It was odd with parallel Pete, but she still remembered all those empty hours when it was just her and Rose and the pain.
Jackie wanted to take away that burden. Jackie wanted Rose to be able to laugh and smile, without worrying if she was dishonoring a memory or feel guilty. Most of all she wanted her baby girl to feel that real joy again. There is no pain a mother wouldn't suffer to keep her children happy.
Jackie knew she had to get Rose out of here. The hospital was the worst part. Rose needed to take a shower, drink some tea, get some sleep and just be away from everything for a little while.
"Sweetheart," Jackie whispered as she held her tightly. "He's not coming back, not this time."
Rose barely shrugged. She knew that. Instead, Rose leaned into her mother. Jackie was her anchor at this point. It was like Bad Wolf Bay the first time, except now there wasn't even a sliver of hope.
"Five and a half hours, Mum. You always wait five and a half hours." Rose tried to give a smile at the old memory of the Doctor; it turned into more of a grimace.
Jackie tried not to sigh. She was fairly certain it had been far longer than five and a half hours. There'd been too much silence and too many tears. "Just tell me when you're ready."
Rose nodded. Sometimes, there was nothing more to say. Jackie began to play with Rose's hair like she had when Rose was young. She wasn't sure of another way of reminding her daughter that she was still there.
"Mum," Rose whispered. "I think, I just want a bit more time alone, with him."
"Of course, sweetheart." Jackie gave her daughter another hug. "I'm going to phone and make sure Tony made it home alright."
"Sure." Rose fixated once again on the Doctor. Her gaze avoided the bloodstained bandages. She felt the need to say something, anything. She just couldn't walk out of the room without some sort of farewell, even if he isn't around to here it. "I just wanted to say," she began, "No, I know this is silly. You'd probably laugh," Rose made a face as if half expecting to argue his laugh-me-I'd-never-laugh face. "Thank you. I guess, for well everything. For saving me, for letting me come with you, for everything that happened after 'run'. I wouldn't have missed it for-"
There was a pulse of music Rose thought she would never hear again, one of the most beautiful sounds in the universe. Rose jumped, looking everywhere for the TARDIS. It wasn't the noise she made when she appeared. This was the much quieter sound of the TARDIS, the sweet music and humming that made Rose feel safe. The Doctor had said she was a telepathic being. Rose didn't know any other way to explain it other than that maybe this was part of the telepathy.
There was a pause in the humming. Rose already longed for it to come back. She had never truly realized how quiet Pete's world had been without the TARDIS. Then, a woman's voice reverberated through the room. "Wolf! Wolf! My Wolf!"
Rose had no idea where the voice was coming from. "What? Do you mean me? Are you talking to me?" She asked thinking of the message she left herself.
"Two parts of space and time that never should have touched pressed together."
Rose examined the room. "I'm sorry. I don't quite understand." The voice was obviously extraterrestrial. "I'm from Torchwood. We can help you return home. "
"Home. Can bring you home." This statement was followed by more TARDIS humming.
Rose shook her hear. She didn't have time for some crazy alien that wouldn't show itself and was content on repeating her. "What do you mean?"
"Do you not recognize me?" The voice was sadder now.
"Should I? I haven't exactly been here very long."
"A Universe away from home."
Rose startled at that. There were very few people who knew of her home universe. She was the elusive daughter of Pete Tyler, raised abroad to grow up normally, who showed up abruptly without much explanation nearly seven years ago.
"How do you know about the parallel universes?"
"You're my wolf. You looked into my heart. I looked into you."
"The TARDIS. You're the TARDIS?" This was absolutely impossible, but there was also that little voice in the back of her head that felt like listing all the impossible things she had ever done. Talking TARDIS was definitely within the realms of possibility.
"Yep. That's me."
"Not that it isn't wonderful to hear you again, I mean I missed you, but why now?"
"Wolf sad. Thief sad. Child sad."
Rose looked back at the stretcher. "Well you've got the first part right."
"They needed you-will need you- are needing you. My, tenses are difficult."
Rose wasn't sure how to respond to that. As the TARDIS was nothing more than a voice, she aimed her incredulous look toward the ceiling. "How am I supposed to help then?"
"Need to go home."
"Home, like my own universe home. That's impossible. And what would I do when I got there? I'm dead there. Everyone I know is probably already gone." But even after saying that Rose knew she was wrong. Mickey had never returned from that world. And she had apparently made Jack immortal. There would be people for her there.
"Dimension Canons were used. I can see it. Will be used in three weeks."
"The dimension canons won't work. They tear a hole in the very fabric of reality."
"Cracks."
"So cracks are already there. That makes it safe?"
"Child crying. It hurts." The TARDIS's voice sounded as if she shared the pain of this child, whoever it was.
"I'll help. It's all going to be okay" Rose soothed. "But I still don't understand."
"My thief needs me now. Can't stay any longer. Drained too much power."
Rose sighed. It seemed as if she would figure out the details after crossing into her home universe. The adventure excited her. It was a new goal, something to cling to right now.
"But who is your thief?"
AN: I'm sorry for the angst. I'm really trying to look at how the events psychologically affect the characters. That means looking at the death of a love one and the recovery, as well as the effects of child neglect, through a realistic lens, which involves angst. Both are sensitive subjects that I don't want to mess up.
On a lighter note, THE 50TH! If anyone has anything you want to discuss, feel free to PM me or just leave a comment in a review. I'm really interested in hearing likes and dislikes (like the fact they never showed how the Doctor and Clara got out of his timestream).
