The Doctor and Rose sat by JJ's bed, watching her sleep. It was nearly midnight, and she was still unconscious. Rose stroked her hand, staring distantly across the room at one of JJ's hand drawn star charts.
Mathilda walked into the room carrying a cool cloth and placed it on JJ's forehead.
"Rose..." The Doctor whispered, "you should get some sleep..."
"I can't leave her," she whispered back.
"Mathilda and I will stay with her. You have a big day tomorrow, you need rest."
Rose squeezed JJ's hand as John walked into the room; he had been downstairs taking calls from people responding to the email. He walked behind Rose and put his hands on her shoulders. Everyone stood in silence for a moment, watching JJ.
"Everyone is on board for tomorrow, there's almost two dozen of us going." John said.
Rose sat silently; the Doctor watched them, not quite sure of what to do.
"We should get to bed sweetheart," John said gently.
"I'll watch Miss JJ, ma'am, I'll wake you if anything changes, I promise," Mathilda offered. when Rose didn't move, she added gently, "You need rest, ma'am."
Rose watched JJ another moment, then reluctantly nodded. John helped her up and led her from the room, leaving Mathilda and the Doctor alone. As he left, he cast a worried look to the Doctor, who nodded, silently agreeing that he'd keep her safe.
Mathilda walked to JJ's bedside and dabbed her forehead with the cloth, trying to cool her fever.
"Oh, little Miss," she cooed, "what have you gotten yourself into this time?"
The Doctor watched another moment in silence, then asked "Would you mind if I went downstairs for a moment? I want to look at the TARDIS, see if there's something there that can give us some kind of clue as to what happened to her."
"Aye, sir. You think she'll be okay?"
He watched a moment, then walked up and checked her pulse and her fever. He pulled out his screwdriver and scanned her carefully. "Mathilda," he said quietly, "there's nothing wrong with her. Aside from the fever, she's completely fine. She's just...asleep." He sighed, "I'm going to go have a look at the TARDIS, I'll be back."
He disappeared from the room and moved quietly down the stairs to the basement. He inspected the space where the old TARDIS had been, but there were no real clues as to where it had gone; it simply vanished, took off. He turned to the door on the wall and inspected it; it was a dark brown wood, with a massive detailed cast-iron pull handle, door knocker and decorations that made it look almost midieval. He inspected the detail work, hoping there would be something giving away its planet or race of origin.
There was some sort of inscription just under the door knocker; so small he could barely read it, but it was definitely some sort of written language. He turned and ran back upstairs through the kitchen and up the front staircase to JJ's room, and poked his head in the door. "Magnifying glass?" he asked.
"In the study, drawer to the right of the desktop computer in the back," she replied, confused. The Doctor disappeared and returned to the study, and dug through the drawer in the desk. He found what he was looking for, and excitedly pulled it from the drawer; as he did so, he accidentally knocked some mail and documents to the floor. He bumbled to collect them and replace them, when he noticed that several of the papers were medical documents, all of which had a Torchwood Hospital stamp in the upper right hand corner. He held them for a moment, conflicted; he didn't want to pry and be nosy...
"I know mum is sick and just isn't telling me, I can feel it," JJ had said. He had felt it too, and tried to ignore it, but there was no hiding that something was very wrong with Rose.
His concern and curiosity got the better of him, and he sat in the chair and began sifting through the documents.
Only about half of them were recent, from the last year, and it wasn't pretty. "Unexplained abdominal pain but clean ultrasounds and scans, memory loss, muscular deterioration, occasional seizures and hallucinations, oh Rose..." He whispered, his eyes watering, "what's happened to you?" He searched through the documents; all tests were inconclusive, nothing showed up as being a trigger. It just seemed as though she was slowly being destroyed by some invisible force. Finally there was a letter with the Torchwood Hospital stamp, dated for mid February.
"Dear Mr. Smith," he mumbled quickly,
"We regret to inform you that after vigorous testing and the combined best efforts of the Torchwood medical staff, we must surmise a cause for your wife's degenerative condition. After a review from our medical panel and in depth study of your wife's test results and marks over the past year, we have reached a conclusion. Based on the inconsistencies and rarities of the combination of symptoms that Mrs. Smith is exhibiting and the correlation between these symptoms and exceptionally high fluctuations of energy and neuronal activity that we have recorded, we conclude that the degenerative affects are a result of leftover energy from the event known as 'Bad-" he took in a sharp breath; he wasn't entierly sure he wanted to finish reading the letter, "the event known as 'Bad Wolf' attacking her already naturally weakened physiology.
Based on our findings, we regret to inform you that Mrs. Smith's estimated remaining life span from today's date is approximately 6 months to a-" his hand flew to his mouth as the tears began to flow. "No..." he whispered. His eyes darted up to the top of the page at the date; February 18th 2059. He turned to the monitor and violently shook the mouse to wake it, and checked the date; 1:09am, August 12th, 2059. Six months.
He leaned back in the office chair and ran his fingers helplessly through his hair. "Oh, Rose..." he whispered mournfully as tears streamed down his face. He closed his eyes, trying to unsee what he had just read, and instead his mind played back that day; the day she had become the Bad Wolf; the day she saved his life. And now...now that moment was slowly and painfully killing her.
"Will there ever be a day that one of them doesn't die for me?" He whispered helplessly.
He looked up and saw on the desk a photo in a frame of a young Rose and John, holding a giggling little girl with big, amber-brown wondering eyes, and each kissing her on the cheek. They were on a picnic blanket under a tree in a park somewhere obviously not Earth, judging by the blue people in the background. JJ looked about 5 or 6 so she was probably around 11 at the time, and she was holding a drawing of her, her parents and Mathilda, and a floating door, presumably their TARDIS.
The photo made him sad; it was a snapshot of a life he could never have. But also, as he looked at it, at how happy everyone was, he realized that despite the sickness, Rose had lived a good life; a fantastic life. She wasn't dying young. She was dying old, and happy, with her family.
He sighed brokenly and grabbed at the magnifying glass, and set the papers back down on the desk in a neat pile. He stood up and walked slowly from the room back towards the basement, when something occurred to him.
He spun around and ran back to the study, and grabbed up the photo frame, staring at it intently. His eyes grew wide, and he ran back up the stairs to JJ's room, magnifying glass and photo in hand.
"Mathilda!" He said loudly; she shushed him angrily.
"Doctor, it's nearly two in the morning! You'll be having the whole house up again if you're not quiet!"
"I'm sorry, Mathilda, but this is important. The Professor...does he ever wear a bow tie?"
Mathilda was confused and still a bit put off by his noise level, "No, the Professor can't stand the feel of a bow tie around his neck; now a regular tie he wears almost every day..."
"No no no, bow tie, like this," he wiggled his own red bow tie, "he never ever wears them?"
"Only time I've ever seen him wear one is a white one in his wedding photos," she replied.
"Then why," he asked showing her the photo, "did Miss JJ draw him wearing a red one in her picture as a child?"
"I...I don't know..." Mathilda stammered.
The Doctor stared at JJ, slightly disappointed the she was still asleep and couldn't answer his question. It didn't sit right. "If she wakes up and I'm not here I want you to call for me straightaway, is that understood?"
Mathilda nodded tiredly. The Doctor turned from the room and went back downstairs to the basement, grabbing a flashlight from the kitchen and leaving the photo on the table on his way. He knelt in front of the TARDIS and gave it a once over under the magnifying glass. Then he pulled out a pair of brown reading glasses from his coat pocket; he stared at them a moment, his face darkened ever so slightly, and the room felt as if just a little bit of life had been sucked from it. He blinked distantly for a moment, then slid them over his nose and attempted to inspect the writing.
At first glance, the writing looked like a strange version of Old High Gallifreyan. But when he tried to read it, it was largely gibberish. Only a few words seemed to actually translate to something;
Τη9πέ ψιγγ βε θπέατ ω2λ2γ2ζατίον ργ7ν9τ (planet) Θ7γγ2ξπ9υ. Παωέ ω7γγ9φ Τιμέ (Time) Γοπφ ψ2γγ φψ9γγ (dwell) τη9πέ, ψ2γγ ψ7γκ 7μ5νθ στ7πς σ2νθ ψ2τη Τιμέ (Time) 2τσ9γξ. Β8τ ξ2πστ ω5μές Φαπκν9σς (Darkness), ψη2ωη φεσττους βεξοπέ ξ2πστ βπέατη.
Τιμέ (Time) θπανυς 8ς μ2π7ωγέ; σαλίοπ, ψη5 φεσττόυς φαπκν9σς (Darkness). Τηέ Τέαωηέπ; Τηέ Σ8ρργ7ντέπ; ωομες παφίαντ ψηιτέ, ψ2τη2ν ψηομ τψο ηέαπτς βέατ. Τηέ Φ5ωτοπ ψ2τη Τηέ Τέαωηέπ σαλε Θ7γγ2ξπ9υ, Τιμέ (Time), πεστοπέ β7γ7νωέ 2ν Δν2λέπσέ.
"Planet, time, dwell, darkness," he mumbled. He slid the glasses back off and jogged back upstairs, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and jogged back downstairs. He carefully copied down the rest of the writing, and took it back upstairs to the dining room, flipping on a little light. He slid the glasses back on and began trying to decipher it.
His head shot up from the table; it was still dark, and the table was covered in sheets of paper with the strange language scrawled across it, with theories drawn up and scratched out. He must have fallen asleep. He ran his fingers through his hair, and sighed tiredly...then suddenly became aware of the feeling of being watched. He turned in his chair and saw two figures; one, a tall thin white man in a white shirt that was nearly completely hidden by shadows, and a tall muscular African American woman standing in the back corner of the dining room. Her hair was braided in many tiny braids tight on her head, and fell down her back in a contained waterfall, trailing nearly the whole way down her back. She was wearing dark leather, and he couldn't tell through the shadows, but it looked like a weapon was strapped to her thigh. Her dark eyes glinted in the light of the little lamp he had lit.
"You must listen to me," she said in a deep, rich voice.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"A dream; nothing more. But hear me. Stand by the girl. Dark times are coming. I cannot tell you when or where or why, but they are coming, and soon. You must hold her hand. Promise me you will hold her hand."
"What...?" he asked groggily, not entirely sure he wasn't still sleeping.
"PROMISE me, promise you will hold her hand!" the strange woman repeated forcefully.
"Who? Who's hand? What am I promising?" He asked, strangely still dazed.
"Just promise," she begged. There was a slight pleading tone in her voice now.
"Alright...I...I promise."
"Say it!"
"I...I promise to hold her hand." The woman smiled sadly. "What am I holding her hand for? Who's hand?"
"You will know," the woman answered; they seemed to be fading. "Winter is coming; in time, all the flowers must wither and-"
His head shot up from the table; it was morning, and the table was covered in sheets of paper with the strange language scrawled across it, with theories drawn up and scratched out. He must have fallen asleep. He ran his fingers through his hair, and sighed tiredly...then suddenly became aware of the feeling of being watched. He turned in his chair and saw John leaning in the doorway between the dining room and the hallway, dressed for the day with a cup of coffee in hand, half-smirking.
"Good morning, sunshine," he said comically.
"Hello," the Doctor mumbled. He stood stiffly from his chair and stretched. "I had the strangest dream...there was a woman, and a man in your dining room just there," he reached from his stretch and pointed, then relaxed. Then he remembered everything he had been doing prior to falling asleep; the indecipherable message on the TARDIS, reading the medical papers...he shot a look to John, who gave a knowing look. He took a deep breath and walked towards the Doctor and took a chair opposite his as the Doctor sat back down.
"Does JJ know," the Doctor whispered; John reluctantly shook his head.
"Rose wanted to tell her in person. And she wanted her coming home to be her own choice, not an obligation because her mum is sick. She's been pretty good the past few weeks, though..." his voice trailed off, and he began to intently inspect the few coffee grounds floating in his coffee. Suddenly the men heard slow footsteps coming down the stairs; both men made eye contact for a moment, and the Doctor saw a single moment of sorrow flash in John's eyes before he got up and walked toward the stairs.
"Professor?"
"Yes?" he asked as he turned.
"I'll keep an eye on JJ today if you want to let Mathilda rest."
John raised an eyebrow quizzically, then nodded and continued to the stairs. "Rose, dear, do you need help?"
"No, no I'm fine..." she replied slightly attitudinally. Several moments later she and John were both just outside the dining room door in the front hall, dressed and ready to march to Torchwood.
The Doctor stood and walked to the hallway to say goodbye, as Mathilda came down the stairs. John looked to her expectant and hopeful; she shook her head sadly, JJ hadn't woken.
She came down and hugged John and Rose goodbye, "Now you two good luck, be safe, I'll call you if anything changes."
"Thank you Mathilda; why don't you take off the day, rest. I'm sure there's enough leftovers for dinner tonight that we can manage." John smiled and squeezed Mathilda's shoulder. She looked between John and the Doctor, then let a smile of relief.
"We'll see you tonight then?" She asked.
John nodded, "This shouldn't take too terribly long; to set them straight; not with the crew we've got." He smiled confidently and put his arm around Rose.
Something was off with her; her eyes were slightly cloudy and distant, and she didn't seemed to focus on anything in particular. The Doctor watched her, resisting the urge to turn away and cry. He did not want to see any of his friends like this; least of all Rose.
John attempted to get her attention, "Ready to go, love?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes, off to Torchwood..." She whispered. John shook his head as he led her to the door to where a taxi was waiting for them. The Doctor and Mathilda waved goodbye and shut the door as John helped Rose into the taxi and told the driver their destination.
They were several minutes down the road, when suddenly Rose exclaimed "John! JJ is sick!"
"Yes she is," he said gently, "but the Doctor is watching her. Do you what to go back?"
"No, it's alright...I just...I didn't check on her before I left."
John smiled, "I'm sure she'll be fine, dear. They'll call us if anything happens."
"Yeah..." she whispered as she stared out of the window. "It's just...I didn't get to say goodbye."
The Doctor closed the door as Mathilda let out an exhausted sigh of relief. "Doctor if its alright with you, I'm going to go sleep now." He nodded, and she disappeared to her bedroom. He stood there another moment as he listened to the cab drive away, then went bank to the dining room.
The sketches of the language was still scattered all across the table; he scooped them up, trying to organize them, but there was no real way of solving this issue; it was gibberish. He sat in the chair and rested his head on his hand, trying to forget the Rose he had just seen; so broken and-
"DOCTOR!"
There came a scream from upstairs; he jumped up instantly and he ran for the staircase, nearly bumping into Mathilda, who was white as a ghost. "JJ?" She asked; they both took off up the staircase to JJ's room where she was sitting up in bed, her knees to her chin and her eyes wide as the moon, staring into get closet.
"JJ what's wrong, what did you see?" The Doctor asked as he knelt in front of her on her bed.
"There...in my closet..." she pointed and then looked at the Doctor terrified, "there was a girl in my closet!"
Author's Challenge on Gallifreyan
The Old High Gallifreyan I use in this chapter is not directly canon; mostly because there is no official alphabet released that I could find or type. I looked up what was known about it, and the version I decided to base mine from said it was comprised of Greek-like letters and numbers and mathematical symbols. As I'm writing my entire story on my iPhone, I have access to the various keyboards, so I made my own version of an Old High Gallifreyan alphabet based on the English alphabet based on the Greek keyboard. As the story goes, I plan on continuing to write in this alphabet, but I'm not going to tell you what the cipher is. My challenge to you, readers, in hopes to get some interaction from you guys; If you think you crack the code and translate the paragraphs before I reveal it, message me or leave a review saying what you think it is. Also, one legitimate review per chapter with actual thoughts/suggestions/criticisms will warrant translation of one word, letter, or revealing a grammatical rule. If someone figures it out...I'll devise some kind of reward. Let me know what you think would be sufficient. Thanks for playing!