Full Circle

Chapter 7: Two Points

A few hours later–after painful goodbyes and an exhilarating ride through two separate Time Vortices–Rose discovered that his presence could still startle her.

She was back in her old room, sorting through clothing she'd worn traveling with him the first time (mostly stuff that she was no longer interested in wearing–she hadn't realized how much her taste could change in three years) and deciding what she'd need to buy and figuring out where she'd like to buy it from. After all, there was no reason to simply go to her old Earth–she could acquire a wardrobe from any planet she pleased, and it was amazing to suddenly realize that she had that freedom back.

"Settling back in all right?" he asked from the doorway, and Rose jumped. For a moment, she expected to turn and face that disinterested, barely tolerant expression–but though the face was the same, the brown eyes were suddenly full of concern. "I didn't mean to startle you," the Doctor said quickly. "I'm so sorry. I'll just–"

"Don't go." Rose let the words out before she thought about them. "I don't mean to think you're him. It's jus'…"

"Same face. Different man," he finished for her. "I know."

"Not so unlike same man, different face," Rose countered, smiling a little. "I'll get used to it. Probably quickly, 'cos he wasn't so bad most of the time. Just a prat."

"What…what was he like?" the Doctor asked after a moment.

"Not you," she answered simply, and was rewarded by a hesitant twitch of a smile. "But not so awful, at first. I think he was tryin' to convince me, then. But after he started working on the TARDIS, he got obsessive about it, and…well, I think he just wished I'd leave him alone, so I did. Last five months, he's been in Cardiff, and I stayed home. I'd visit him, and it seemed better that way."

"Then what started what I found?"

"Oh." Rose snorted a laugh at herself. "I guess I started talking 'bout leaving. I meant just for the night, but he took it all wrong, and tried to stop me. And I got angry. I told him that I wasn't his servant or his plaything, and that I didn't give a damn if he had a TARDIS, 'cos I wasn't going with him. He didn't like that."

"Rose Tyler…" And he smiled when he said her name in a voice full of wonder. "You have got to be one of the silliest, stupidest, bravest and most fantastic people I have met in my…oh, very long and checkered life. No one has ever quite been like you."

She met his smile with her own, but it faded with a thought. "He hates you, doesn't he?" she asked. "I told him that he wasn't fit to wear your face, and he was furious."

"I imagine he was! He's always hated every bit of me, called me a sanctimonious meddler and a hundred other things. Said I was wasting my life, doing what I do."

"Even though he came from you."

"Oh, yes." The Doctor's eyes focused somewhere in the distance. "If I'd known he was going to become the Valeyard, I'd…I'd have found somewhere else to leave him. Nowhere near you."

"Leave him?" Rose repeated.

"Would have had to. Can't risk creating a paradox–I met him back in my sixth incarnation. He was trying to get me sentenced to death so he could have my remaining regenerations. Looked a lot older then, though, and no one knew where he'd come from. Eventually, they figured it out," the Doctor explained. "Though they thought he came from between my twelfth and thirteenth regenerations. Not between this one and number eleven."

She shivered. "You knew there would be someone like this, one day? Someone from you?"

He nodded grimly. "Yep. Didn't think it'd be him, though. Figured something better would come from the combination of this body and Donna."

"Then what is he, since he's not really a duplicate of you?" Rose asked after a moment. She knew what the Doctor had thought he'd be, but the fact that he'd known about the Valeyard was suddenly sinking in. He'd never told her about anything like this–but then again, there was a lot he'd never told her, and Rose had never pressed. His past had always been a dark area between them, one filled with pain. She'd been younger when she traveled with him, and much more innocent, caring more for his feelings than her own curiosity.

For a wild moment, Rose was completely unable to believe that this was going to work–she was no longer a wide-eyed girl seeing the universe for the first time and accepting everything at face value. She'd experienced too much, changed too much, and had seen a man with this very same face becoming a monster.

Gently, the Doctor took her hands, clearly having seen the fear and doubt on her face. He squeezed them, looking directly into her eyes. "The Valeyard is the distillation of everything bad, everything dark, and everything evil in me, Rose," he said quietly. "He's the storm inside of me, the fury that I hold back–everything I might be, but am not. Everything you saved me from."

He'd said the same thing on the beach, just not quite in the same way.

"The older I get, the more I have lost," the Doctor continued quietly. "It gets harder and harder to cope, over time…and I wasn't able to, after the war, until you pulled me back."

"Then why couldn't I save him?" Rose asked without meaning to. Why couldn't I save him like you wanted me to? Is this my fault?

"Because he didn't want to be saved," he replied softly. The Doctor let go of her left hand to lay his palm against Rose's cheek. "I did."

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I don't deserve this, he thought as Rose leaned into him for a hug. And he didn't. He'd messed up so many times–not just in leaving her, but in never even considering how very dangerous the duplicate him might be–that he absolutely did not deserve Rose's forgiveness. Didn't deserve her, in his arms, holding onto him as tightly as he was her. He'd known he was breaking her heart, burning all his bridges behind his back, as he left her at Bad Wolf Bay…but he'd been so convinced that it was the right thing to do.

How many times in your life has being convinced of that actually accomplished what you set you to do? You're a fool, Doctor, a voice inside his head told him. He'd mucked everything up in the most unbelievable fashion, and yet here they were. Somehow, against all odds, he had Rose back.

And he had a lot of heartbreak to make up for, even if she wasn't letting him apologize yet.

"Doctor?" she whispered against his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

Looking down at her, he found her looking up at him. The doubt in her eyes was still there–how can she doubt herself?–but there were deeper emotions, too.

"I love you," Rose whispered.

Immediately, a lump formed in his throat. This was the first time she'd said those words to him since that first day on the beach…the worst day of both their lives. Amazingly, he didn't hesitate. "I love you, too."

For once in his life, he'd said the right thing at the right time, because the smile on Rose's face was real. The Doctor hesitated, just for a moment, and then he kissed her.

Doing so was a commitment, and he hoped she realized that. The kiss was a promise that he wasn't going to walk away, that he was going to see this through to the end–even if that meant staying with Rose until the end of her human lifespan. He wasn't going to back away, not this time: not from fear, and certainly not because he thought he knew what was best for Rose.

"You're beautiful," the Doctor whispered when they pulled apart, meaning it.

Her smile was suddenly shy, with a piece of tongue peeking out from between her teeth. "A girl could get used to hearing compliments like that."

"Good. 'Cause I could get use to saying them. Meaning them. Everything." He grinned at her like an idiot, but it was all right.

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Commitment or no, he managed to avoid talking about the future for a few weeks–something told him that Rose agreed on that–while they felt one another out again. There were some rough moments, but slowly they were becoming as close as they'd once been, having a hard time figuring out where one began and the other ended.

Along the way, the Doctor was discovering that he was addicted to Rose Tyler. Addicted to holding her, kissing her, being with her–anything would do, but now that he'd let himself tell her how he felt, he found that there was no going back. His lonely soul was completely wrapped up in her, and if he noticed himself smiling more often and laughing more freely…well, he knew that she did, too.

They'd warned their friends, of course–even Wilf, telling him to look out for Donna. While the Doctor didn't think that the Valeyard would go after the others, there was no telling. Besides, the other him had to do something once the Time War was over (assuming he survived it), and the last thing the Doctor needed was someone impersonating him.

Though he'd probably have a lot more of that to deal with in the coming years, as well as the Valeyard trying to steal his remaining regenerations. But it's still better than leaving him loose to roam the universes with Rose as his prisoner, so I'll take what I can get.

Thinking of Rose led him towards her door. She'd gone to sleep less than an hour before, leaving the Doctor alone with his thoughts. He had a few things to fix in the TARDIS, of course, but most of them had been waiting on repairs for years and could continue to do so. He had time to peek in on her.

Except Rose was tangled up in the covers, twisting and twitching and crying. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but it was obvious that she was experiencing a nightmare.

He approached her bedside cautiously, fairly sure what horrors she was seeing and knowing that seeing his face wouldn't help. The Doctor touched her shoulder gently. "Rose?"

There was no response, so he slowly lowered himself to sit by her side, shaking her gently. "Rose. Rose."

"No!" She bolted upright into a sitting position with a cry, shoving him away with both hands. Unbalanced, the Doctor tumbled off the bed and to the floor, landing on his behind.

Rose blinked before he could find words to comfort her.

"Doctor?" she whispered brokenly.

He was by her side in an instant. "Yep. It's me. Only me. Same daft old Doctor." Carefully, he reached out to touch her shoulder. "I won't hurt you, Rose."

She gulped and nodded, tears still streaming down her face.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked gently, unable to tell if his presence was helping or hurting.

Rose shook her head wildly, chocking back another sob, and the Doctor shifted closer.

"C'mere, then," he said softly, opening his arms to her. She practically dove into them, and he held her as she cried, stroking her back and resisting the urge to tell her that everything would be all right. Instead, he told her that he loved her, and when Rose fell back asleep, he lowered her back to the bed and stayed by her side.

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That wasn't the first time that they'd fallen asleep in the same bed, but Rose sensed that something had changed between them the night before. It was the first time they'd done so since her return, and she could feel their relationship shifting and trying to wrap itself around the intimacy of sleeping in his arms.

The Valeyard had never seemed very interested in spending the night with Rose; at first, he'd been "worried" about the time they'd spent apart and "concerned" for her feeling; later, once Rose had gotten to know him better, he'd simply decided not to sleep. But the Doctor–who she knew didn't need to sleep nearly as much as she did–stayed with her until morning, when she'd woken wrapped up in his arms…and found him dozing, too. She'd never seen him so relaxed, or so beautiful, and Rose had been unable to resist the temptation to kiss him awake.

Three days later (two toppled dictatorships and one nice evening in the Time Vortex between them), she was still savoring the shocked-but-happy look on his face. Her nightmares had all but vanished with him there, and Rose had a hard time fighting back the urge to ask him to come back the next night. She'd desperately wanted to–but wasn't sure if it would be all right. Maybe I'm a coward, but I love him too much to push him away.

However, the night after toppling that second dictatorship, Rose woke herself up with her sobbing, and lay there crying and shivering for almost an hour before need overrode her fears.

She was heading for the control room when she saw a light underneath the door across from her own–was that his room? The TARDIS had shifted rooms around at least twice since she'd been back (and several times during her absence, Rose was sure), which meant she still got lost from time to time. She'd had no idea that the Doctor's room was so close–or that he ever really bothered to use it.

Knocking quietly brought no response, so, after a slight hesitation, Rose cracked the door open and peeked in.

He was sprawled on the giant wooden four-poster with abandon, his glasses pushed far down on his nose so he could read over them. She couldn't read the title of the book he was working on from the doorway, but it was huge, dusty, and creaky-looking. Probably a classic from some planet or another.

The Doctor's head snapped up without warning. "Rose!"

He was off the bed in an instant, and her confidence evaporated. What was she thinking, wandering into his room in the middle of the night? Was she a child looking to crawl into her mum's bed just because she had a nightmare?

"I'm sorry," she managed to get in before he asked a thousand questions. "I didn't mean to wake you. I was jus'…awake. Yeah. Awake. And I saw your light…"

"Another nightmare?" the Doctor asked gently.

Rose nodded miserably, shivering as he wrapped his arms around her. She hated how weak her voice sounded: "Can I stay with you?"

"'Course you can." He kissed the top of her head, and Rose leaned into him, feeling safe. A long time ago, she'd held her first Doctor when he had nightmares (he'd been loathe to let her do it, but a nineteen year old Rose Tyler was a stubborn girl), and though she wouldn't have let anyone else see her in such a mess, this was the Doctor. Her Doctor.

"I don't mind if you read, or…anything," Rose said quietly, taking a deep breath. She hated admitting weakness, but… "I just don't want to be alone."

He could have left the light on and not touched her at all, for all Rose cared. Being close to him was better than anything else–but the Doctor threw her a funny glance and smiled.

"Nah, I was just going to stop, anyway. Ol' Charlie always gives me a headache after a bit." He let go of her long enough to pull the book off the bed and pull the covers back for her. "In you go. I'll be right back."

Climbing into the Doctor's bed felt strange–usually, when she'd caught her first Doctor having nightmares, he'd been dozing in the console room or the library. She'd only been in his room a handful of times (ever), and pulling the heavy blankets up to her chin did nothing to erase the awkwardness Rose felt.

The Doctor reappeared a moment later, wearing pajamas. Despite herself, Rose smiled.

"Your jammies have pinstripes on them," she pointed out softly.

He grinned as he walked around to the other side of the bed. "So they do. May I?"

"'S your bed."

"Always polite to ask, though, isn't it? And while I'll freely admit to being both rude and not ginger, I'm trying very hard to be on my best behavior."

Despite herself, Rose giggled a little. He was so obviously trying to put her at ease, but it was working. After a moment, she felt comfortable enough to wiggle closer to him–this was the Doctor, after all, and not some stranger. When he turned off the light and wrapped his arms around her, it felt completely natural.

"So, why don't you tell me about these nightmares?" he asked quietly, and Rose stiffened.

"They're…nothing," she said quietly, desperately trying to block the images out of her mind.

Cold laughter–

Golden light twisting around until it focused on her, hurt her; then and only then did it carve a path back out before her, a path to lead them together once more–

Pain and loneliness. She spent each day staring at a face she both loved and hated–hated both of them because one had left her and the other tore her apart–

Day after day, trapped in a TARDIS she was no longer aloud to leave. Days beyond that, then years, with her consciousness torn out of a still-young human body and deposited into a machine that hated the Valeyard, loved the Valeyard, hated the Doctor and hated Rose. She wasn't welcome and yet she was stuck–

"Rose!" Only a hard shake tore her free of the memories, and Rose gasped out a sudden sob. She hadn't meant for them to overwhelm her like this… The Doctor rubbed her back and held her tight. "That's not nothing," he said gently. "Not nothing at all."

"I didn't want to bother you," she objected weakly. "They're jus' nightmares, right? Only my subconscious playing out fears."

He'd told her that, once, about his own nightmares. That they were that and memories, and these she couldn't have memories of things that hadn't happened, could she?

"Fears of what?" the Doctor asked, stopping her panicked train of thought.

"Nothing," Rose repeated, swallowing. She didn't know why she was arguing. Just that she ought to, for some stupid reason or another. The Doctor had come for her, after all. Why burden him with the silly consequences her mind could dream up for what might have been?

"I seem to recall using that line on you a few times," he chided her, his tone playful yet concerned. "You, Miss Tyler, told me, and I quote: 'to stuff my nothing down into unmentionable places and to tell you what was wrong.' Turnabout's fair play."

Her laugh was half a sob, but Rose did remember telling him that. She also remembered the angry northern accent turning softer as he gave in, telling her about losing everyone and watching friends die in a war he'd never wanted to fight but had been on the front lines of. She swallowed.

If he could brave telling me about the Time War, I can certainly tell him about my nightmares! Rose thought to herself. They're silly, anyway.

"They're just dreams," she said, as much to convince herself than him. "I keep thinking about…about what might've been. If you hadn't come. If I'd–gone with him."

Because I'm here in your TARDIS and I'm so happy that I'm afraid it's not true, she couldn't say. Each nightmare was something different and something new, and they were tearing her apart from the inside out, because each seemed so possible. So real.

She rambled her way into continuing: "It's never the same, but it's always the same. If you hadn't come, he'd have forced me to go with him, digging into my mind like he did, and somehow he'd have turned everything on me…usually, I end up locked in a room in his TARDIS, never allowed to leave or to see anyone but him. Sometimes, though, my mind's been forced into his TARDIS, and I can never die or leave–jus' travel with him through all eternity, sometimes seeing you at a distance, but never able to tell you I'm there."

"Oh, Rose…" Until he wiped her tears away, she didn't realize she was crying. But he didn't tell her to stop, just held her and made her feel safe. "That's never going to happen. I promise you, Rose Tyler. That's not going to happen."

The fierceness in his voice made her nod shakily. "I know–I believe you," she said quietly. "They're just so…vivid. I've never had dreams like that before. I can see, hear, feel…everything. It's like I'm looking at a future that might have been but now won't. And I know it won't, but it's just…"

"Frightening," he finished for her, and Rose nodded again.

"He was so interested in the Bad Wolf," she whispered after a moment. "He said he could control the Vortex in me. Use it." A shiver tore through her entire body before she added: "In my dreams, he's always using it to draw you in, 'cos the Bad Wolf was a path to lead me back to you."

"It worked, too," the Doctor said softly. "The TARDIS detected you, not that half-finished TARDIS he's still building. That spark in you–he woke it up, and he led me straight to you. If he hadn't done that, I might never have found you."

Rose shivered again, squeezing her eyes shut tight against the sudden thought of what might have been–

Pounding against the doors, the walls, and the floor did no good–he only came when he wanted to come, mocking her in his voice, telling her about all the places he'd been and the people he'd seen. Some of them thought he was the Doctor, and the Valeyard didn't bother to disabuse them of that notion. Oh, no.

One day, he told her about how he'd finally breached the walls between the universes, how he'd even slipped back into history that was Time Locked, and he let her out of her too-nice room just the once, to let her see a beautiful planet with orange skies and silver trees. The Doctor was there, he told her–not her Doctor, but a Doctor all the same–and the Valeyard was going to destroy him.

This was their home, he told her, the planet the Doctor had never even told her the name of, and the one that the Valeyard would betray to the Daleks.

Later, he threw her back into the plush and comfortable room, telling her that no one would hear her so she could cry all she wanted.

Some years later, he let her watch on a television-type screen as he landed his TARDIS next to a blue police box, and not long passed before he dragged an unconscious Doctor out and handed him over to the Daleks–

"Rose, stop. Please. Look at me, Rose. Please look at me." A long moment passed before she could focus on the sound of the Doctor's voice, and she stared into his face, shaking helplessly.

"I didn't–didn't–" She gulped the words back, not knowing what she was trying to deny.

"Shh," he whispered, cupping her face in one hand, the other arm still tight around her. "I'm here."

"I–Doctor, what's happening to me? Why can't I stop?" she almost shouted the words at him, but he didn't seem to notice.

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath before answering. "I don't think they're nightmares, Rose," he said softly. "I think you're seeing the future that very well could have been."

"What–why?"

"I don't know. Bad Wolf, I'd wager. The Time Vortex is alive in you, now, Rose. And it's…it's showing you what might have been."

"Why can't it just be a dream?" Rose asked.

"I wish it was," the Doctor breathed into her hair. "But it's almost as if…"

When he didn't finish the sentence, she volunteered the only information that she thought could help–anything to keep the images at bay. "He took me to Gallifrey," she whispered.

"To where?" She thought she felt his hearts skip a beat.

"Your home," Rose replied in a tiny voice. "He took me there, said you were there, and that he was going to destroy you…but he couldn't, and he tried again in the Time War, handing you over"–her voice caught in her throat–"to the Daleks."

"Those aren't dreams, Rose. They can't be. I've never told you my planet's name. Or about that part of the war."

She closed her eyes. "I know."

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Author's Note: The shortest distance between two points should be a straight line…but in Doctor Who, it never is. Stay tuned!