Chapter 3: Saving the World

Twelve hours, twelve months.

It was a bit of a difference, all right. And 'sorry' probably didn't really cut it. In fact, judging by the look on Rose's mother's face, not to mention the missing person posters littering the flat, it didn't even come close.

He'd never been quite this careless before, had he?

But then, would he even know? He'd never exactly offered his companions visits home before. They came with him and they stayed or left. They didn't get weekend familial visits as part of the deal.

He had somehow never managed to get Tegan back to Heathrow. And, in the end, not even to the correct year, either. And he had a sneaking suspicion that he might not have left Sarah-Jane exactly where he'd been supposed to, either.

So, yeah, he could understand Rose's mother's anger. Though the slap was a bit much, wasn't it?

The problem was that now she might decide to stay put. As she told him, she couldn't put her mother through that again. Understandable, but not what he wanted to hear.

She was his companion now. He'd chosen her, taken her from this ordinary life of hers and introduced her to the stars. Well, technically he hadn't shown her the stars yet, but he would. Soon. Next, in fact. Once he could get her back into the TARDIS. Which clearly wouldn't be just yet.

Ironic to think that a day or so ago he'd have been relieved to have her want to stay at home. Relieved that he could put off taking her with him for now, that he had the freedom to swan off and travel around for another few decades before coming back to get her.

Course, he could do that now. It was obvious that she wanted to stay around here for a while. He could suggest to her that she take a week, maybe, to reassure her mum that she was okay, to catch up with her friends and so on, and he'd come back for her after that. She wouldn't have to know how long it'd been for him.

He could... but he wouldn't.

She was his now.

Even if she was semi-pissed off with him for her missing year, even if she was clearly frustrated at not being able to talk about her experiences with anyone. Even with all of that, her natural sense of humour kept surfacing. She was able to laugh about the idea of her mother on the TARDIS - no way! - and about the fact that he'd got slapped. And even the little slip that revealed his age - well, something close to his age - didn't faze her.

Looking at her now, the vivacity of her expression, the laughter in her eyes, he could see echoes of the Rose he'd met in his past. She still looked more innocent, obviously newer to this whole thing. But the resilience, the humour, the courage and the ingenuity of his Rose, the Rose of his future and his past, was there.

He opened his mouth to speak as she laughed again, her hair blowing gently around her face in the breeze. Then shut it again abruptly as he realised what he'd been about to do. He'd been about to say "Remember when we..."

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The last thing he could do was give her any hint of what lay in her future. This was going to be tougher than he'd imagined. Having to keep a careful guard on his tongue, on his reactions, at all times, making sure that he never, ever let slip that he'd known her before, that her future was important to his past and to his future.

Time, such a fragile thing. And he, a Time Lord, should know that better than anyone.

Guard his tongue. Never, ever say anything to her that he might regret. That was the best way.

Then all other thoughts were driven from his mind as a giant spaceship cruised overhead, only just missing the rooftops around them, and they had to duck.

Fantastic!

Well, if she'd wanted excitement, she was getting it. And she didn't even have to do more than step outside her own front door. Or, more accurate, watch it on TV. Aliens, invading the Earth, in Rose's own time, her own country, her own city.

Just as long as it didn't make her decide that she didn't need to travel the universe in a time machine to get her fill of adventure.

Not that that seemed likely. He'd been pathetically pleased when she'd followed him out of the flat to demand to know where he was going, seeming afraid that he was going to run off and leave her.

Yeah, he did have plans that didn't include her. But that was temporary. When he left this time, this place, he had no intention of going without Rose Tyler. No matter what means he had to employ, she would be in the TARDIS at his side.

So he gave her a TARDIS key. It was kind of symbolic, really. He wasn't just giving her a means of getting into the TARDIS on her own - and that was showing her a huge measure of trust, which he wasn't sure she entirely appreciated - he was also giving her a piece of himself. Linking their lives in a way which was quickly becoming irrevocable.

As he walked away, down the stairs and towards the TARDIS, he couldn't help wondering whether he'd still have given her the key if he didn't know how closely her life would become entwined with his.

But there were complications. There were always complications.

The idiot boyfriend was back. The one who'd called him a thing. Trying to lay on the guilt - Rose had been missing for a year, the kid had been called in for questioning by the police. People had thought that he'd murdered her.

Stupid apes. Girl goes missing, they always assume it's the boyfriend.

Okay, sometimes it was. But surely it had to be obvious, just by looking at this particular specimen of homo sapiens, that he didn't have the wit or the intelligence to get away with murder? He was the sort who was more likely to get himself killed than kill someone else.

He'd be all over Rose like a rash in a minute. He was already telling her how much he'd missed her, that he wasn't seeing anyone else, that he wanted her back... oh, she wasn't going to kiss him, was she?

He interrupted them before things could go any further. That wasn't jealousy he'd felt; of course it wasn't. He'd just been a bit worried that Rose might actually start feeling sorry for the idiot, on top of the way she'd already talked about her mother, and decide that she'd have to stay here after all. He couldn't have that.

Anyway, there were more important things to do. Like find out who the real aliens were - wonders would never cease, idiot-boy Rickey had a good point there. Who were they? Where were they hiding? What was their plan? What did they want with the Earth, anyway? And why dress up a pig as an alien and crash-land it in the Thames?

Just what was going on?

And then he found out.

The top alien experts in the country - the cream of UNIT - all dead. Aliens at the heart of government. And the only person who knew what was really going on was him.

No-one was going to believe him. The police had been given orders to shoot him on sight.

So, was this it? Was this how he would die? How Rose would lose him?

But it was too soon. Far too soon. She knew nothing; nothing about his life, what he did, what he stood for, nothing about the mysteries of Time and the universe. She was brave and intelligent and willing, but that wasn't enough. He still had much work to do with her.

Well, maybe the next him would get to do it. Just a shame he probably wouldn't get to say goodbye.

Luck, a bit of cunning and fast legwork kept him alive, though, and he caught up with Rose. And the other human he'd picked up - an MP, who actually seemed pretty intelligent for once. And there they were, the three of them, locked inside the Cabinet Room, trying to figure out a way to save the world and, if possible, save themselves too.

The Slitheens' plan: cunning in its simplicity, devastating in its effects. The Earth as molten scrap-heap; the universe's sale of the century. The Earth's population: dispensable. Utterly disposable, like yesterday's newspaper. These aliens obviously didn't believe in recycling.

Trapped in one room, no means of communicating with the outside world, a world that had no idea what was going to happen to it, the three of them all that stood between the Earth and apocalypse. His brain, Rose's quick intelligence, Harriet Jones' determination.

Just them - and Rose's mobile.

Maybe they could do it, after all.

He could save the world.

It was easy, simple. Only thing he could do, really. He was the Doctor. It was what he did. Save the universe, save the world, save a single person. He was the Doctor.

This time, however, wasn't so simple. He could save the world but for one thing. One tiny, yet significant thing.

Rose.

She had chosen this life. She had chosen to travel with him, and would do through his next life. She had chosen him, but now he had to choose. Weigh the chances of survival. The world or Rose.

Rose or the world.

Why did it have to end like this? Was this the time? Was this how Rose would lose him? She had to survive, he knew that. Yet he couldn't see how. There was a solution. Only one. But it meant a choice.

Once again, he had to choose. Life or death. Rose or the world. Gallifrey or the Daleks. Tough and terrible choices, yes, but if he didn't choose, who would? And if he didn't choose, if he waited, she would die. Even if he chose her, she would die. He would die. And, with them, the planet.

He took a deep breath and spoke. "There's a way out."

"What?" Rose turned toward him, her expression incredulous.

"There's always been a way out." In this equation of Rose to the world, he had no choice. The world must win. Had to win. But, it did not mean that he could not regret the choice.

"Then why don't we use it?"

She was so naïve. She had seen so little of his life, experienced far too little to know the truth. He had to make hard choices. And, inevitably, innocent people got stuck in the crossfire. He strode across the room and braced his hands against the table, leaning forward to speak into the speaker phone. "Because I can't guarantee your daughter will be safe."

He lied. He had never been able to guarantee safety. He had never been able to protect her. She protected him. This life, previous lives, his future life. Didn't matter. She was Rose. His Rose. But, now, she was Jackie's Rose. Not his. Not quite yet. But soon.

"Don't you dare. Whatever it is, don't you dare." Jackie's voice sounded frantic, but he ignored her. What could he do? What choice did he have?

None.

"That's the thing, if I don't dare, everyone dies." Just like Gallifrey. Everyone, everything dies. That was the nature of this choice. Just like before.

"Do it." The soft words caused him to look up and he met Rose's determined gaze.

She would do it. Just like that. He could not believe it. "You don't even know what it is. You'd just let me?"

"Yeah."

Such a simple word. Just one word, and she entrusted her life to him. Just like 'run', she said 'yeah'.

"Please, Doctor! Please! She's my daughter, she's just a kid!" Jackie's voice had gained a new sense of desperation. She knew. Rose didn't, but Jackie did. She knew what it might mean. As did he.

Ever the great manipulator. His hands clenched into fists.

"Do you think I don't know that? Because this is my life, Jackie, it's not fun, it's not smart, it's just standing up and making a decision because nobody else will." He glared at the speaker phone, as if that were the cause of his troubles rather than the Slitheen.

"Then what're you waiting for?" Rose asked in a soft tone.

Once again, she startled him. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and for a timeless moment there was a perfect understanding between them.

"I could save the world, but lose you," he admitted. However, he didn't mention that if he did nothing he would still lose her. There was no choice. However, that still did not make it an easy decision.

She averted her gaze with a shy smile and he fought the urge to sigh. He could save the world. He would save the world and possibly lose her, and his life, in the process.

His inner thoughts were cut short by the unexpected voice of Harriet Jones. "Except it's not your decision, Doctor. It's mine."

"Who the hell are you?" Jackie asked angrily.

"Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. The only elected representative in this room, chosen by the people, for the people, and on behalf of the people I command you. Do it."

He slowly grinned. It wasn't often, after all, that he got a carte blanche to save the world.

And maybe, just maybe, they would survive.

Somewhere there was danger. Somewhere there was excitement. That somewhere was anywhere but London.

He tapped the console and sighed. She was back with her mum, back in her too-comfortable life, and he was left staring at the console. Was this what he had become? Was this his destiny? To wait on Rose?

His hands curled into fists as he bowed his head. There were things to do, worlds to see and experience, people to meet through her unfettered eyes. What was happening to him? Before, he never would have waited this long. Before, he never would have given a companion this much leeway, this much free rein, this much...

She was Rose. His Rose, or would soon be, yes. But that did not negate what had happened. What was happening.

Right. Enough of this. He had work to do.

She had said that she couldn't put her mum through that again. She had all but implied that she wouldn't come back, couldn't come back, because of her ties to Earth.

To be tied to one planet, one city, for the rest of her life? That was not Rose. Not his Rose. She belonged to the universe, to him...

She couldn't stay here.

But she might.

And he had asked her if she wanted to stay behind. Had all but implied that she should.

It's a different morality. Get used to it or go home.

He had brought her home. And, now, he might lose her. He couldn't help himself as his hand reached for the phone. He didn't stop himself from dialling her number. He couldn't stop himself from waiting in breathless anticipation to hear her voice again.

This was what he had become: dependent.

"Hello?"

Another deception, perhaps. Another manipulation. The lie slipped through his lips easily. "Right, I'll be a couple of hours, then we can go." He could never tell her the truth. That he feared she would leave. That he wasn't certain if he could live his life without her. That he was terrifyingly dependent upon her.

"You've got a phone?" She sounded incredulous.

"You think I can travel through time and space and I haven't got a phone?" He laughed as he turned a knob, feeling some of his earlier panic subside at the sound of her voice. "Like I said, couple of hours… I've just got to send out this dispersal..."

He flipped a switch. "There you go. That's cancelling out the Slitheens' advert in case any bargain hunters turn up."

"My mother's cooking."

He froze. The words that tumbled out of his mouth were automatic. No thought was given to them. He knew what she might say. What she would say. "Good! Put her on a slow heat and let her simmer."

She sounded exasperated as she replied, "She's cooking tea. For us."

"I don't do that." He never would. Too domestic, too personal, too close. For all that Rose had seen of him, there were pieces of his fractured soul that he could not share. He would not share.

"She wants to get to know you." Her voice had gained a measure of pleading. He knew what she wanted, but this was not something that he could give.

"Tough! I've got better things to do." Like wait. Like worry. Like fear.

"It's just tea."

She deserved some measure of truth. But only some. "Not to me it isn't." It never could be just tea.

"She's my mother."

His response was callous, but immediate. "Well, she's not mine!"

"That's not fair!" Now he had done it. Got her mad. Got her thinking. What was he doing?

"Well, you can stay here if you want!" The words slipped from his lips without thought, without consideration. She could leave. Would leave. Because he drove her away. What sort of man had he become?

He could manipulate her, he knew. With his words, with the merest hint of danger. He could force her to come with him, to forget her desire to protect her mother. He could do that.

"But right now there's this plasma storm brewing in the Horsehead Nebula. Fires are burning ten million miles wide. I could fly the TARDIS right into the heart of it then ride the shock wave all the way out - hurtle right across the sky and end up anywhere."

He did.

"Your choice."

He hung up the phone and bowed his head. This was what he was reduced to. Manipulating her because he could not bear to have her leave.

This was what he was: dependent.

This was what he did: manipulate.

This was why: Rose.

To be continued...