Chapter 7
Though the library had been comfortingly familiar to her, this infirmary was far different than Rose had ever seen. In her time on the ship, it had been a serene, sterile place, all smooth white curves and flashing lights. Rather Star Trek, now that she thought about it. Had it changed before or after she'd teased the Doctor about his lack of Spock? She grinned. If it was after, she'd never let him live that down.
This was another comfortable wood-paneled room, with chrome details picked out on the old-fashioned leather stools. She bit back a giggle. Apparently this Doctor liked to stay in theme with his ship. The instruments looked familiar, at least—she'd traveled in the past enough to firmly appreciate all the wonders of the TARDIS' infirmary. She sat on one of the firm stools, letting the Doctor scan her with a mind-boggling array of instruments. She lifted her arms when he asked her, breathed into the mouthpiece of a rather disturbing tentacled scanner, and laid back on the soft leather sling for the TARDIS' full body scan with the patience of a saint.
There wasn't much she expected to find from this, though if anything would know what she had become, it would be the TARDIS. After all, the TARDIS had redesigned her, in a way. Rose Tyler, daughter of Pete and Jackie Tyler and creation of the TARDIS. Hmm. Didn't really have the right ring to it, in her opinion. She sighed and closed her eyes. Amazing as the TARDIS infirmary was, the results of that long battery of tests wouldn't be ready for a while, and she was feeling a bit tired again. Might as well get some shut-eye while she was scanned.
The Doctor sighed as yet another result came up inconclusive. He was really starting to despise that word. A soft snore came from Rose, and he smiled and settled a soft woolen blanket that had appeared next to him over her slumbering form. She'd seemed a bit fatigued ever since that startling golden glow and this was a good a time as any for her to rest. Free of makeup and without the weight of years behind her brown eyes, she looked incredibly young. Just nineteen when it started, she'd said. Rassilon, she was barely more than a child when she'd gone off with him, and yet he'd fallen in love with her. What could possibly have possessed him?
He snorted softly at himself. Well, other than the obvious. He'd always been drawn to the extraordinary, and Rose Tyler was definitely that. He couldn't help feeling guilty, though. At nineteen, she'd made a decision for his sake that had changed her life in an exceptionally literal way. Watching those you loved decay around you was never easy, as he knew painfully well. To lose all understanding of your self at the same time must have been harrowing, and after a moment's consideration he brushed away the thoughts that raged about her youth. Young Rose Tyler may have been at the time, but she was apparently more than strong enough to handle the situation. Mentions of her faded humanity still seemed to bother her, though. Not that he could blame her, really. He shuddered at the thought of losing everything that made him a Time Lord.
There were some oddities to her story, though. Travel between parallel universes was rare, to be sure, but it was far from impossible. Had he gotten himself exiled again in the future, that he had no fellow Time Lords to help him? Romana was particularly adept at interdimensional travel, and she had more patience and understanding for his eccentricities than nearly anyone else on Gallifrey. He frowned and set aside the Helogian diagnostic scanner. If they had faced an enemy capable of circumventing regeneration on Satellite Five, why had he not called on the Council? Though his fellow Time Lords were pompous, arrogant blowhards, they were still self-aware enough to take seriously any threat that was capable of ending a Time Lord's existence, even if said Time Lord was one they happened to despise.
As she told her story, her pauses and starts showed that there was much she wanted to tell him, but she'd carefully edited herself instead. The deep unease that had been poisoning his thoughts lately swelled, and he lowered a suddenly trembling hand. Something was going to go very wrong in his future, and Rose Tyler knew what it was. Judging by her reaction when he told her which incarnation he was, it would happen soon. He sat on a nearby leather stool and took a deep breath. The TARDIS chimed gently at him, and he absently moved to survey the results on the screen. After a moment, he blinked and focused. Well. That was unexpected.
The lights in the infirmary were lowered when Rose woke up, lending a twilight dimness to the darkly paneled room. They brightened slowly as she shifted and sat up, smiling when she noticed the deep burgundy blanket that had been covering her. Rose stretched and absently readjusted her dressing gown, only to freeze as she noticed the Doctor standing behind a smooth chrome-plated monitor. Oh, Lord. Hopefully she hadn't flashed him. She slipped off the sling and stood next to him, but he still didn't notice her. The screen wasn't being very helpful—the script that scrolled past her eyes was almost certainly Gallifreyan, though her Doctor had never told her directly what it was. The intricate loops and swirls of his native language had never been translated for her or for anyone else.
She took a moment to watch the Doctor. He was staring blankly at the screen, aquamarine eyes focused on something beyond her abilities to see. He got like that, sometimes, frozen in contemplation. He'd spend hours staring at nothing, completely absorbed in his own mind. It had utterly freaked her out the first time she saw it, especially since otherwise he was always in motion. That was when it had really sunk in for her that he was an alien—not just some odd bloke who could pull the solution out of his pocket at the last second, but a centuries-old alien. Well, millennia-old, she supposed now.
Rose coughed lightly, and he flinched into the present. "Ah, Rose! Good, I was just going to wake you up." She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he pursed his lips. "I was. Eventually. Anyway, there weren't many conclusive results, but the TARDIS' scan was able to come up with a diagnosis, which does make sense, since apparently this all stemmed from her connection with you." He paused, and his gaze drifted off again. "The only problem is her diagnosis quite simply doesn't make sense."
"Well, what is it?"
"Apparently the Vortex bound itself to you at the cellular level when you connected to the TARDIS, and that trace has been the source of your… regeneration, for lack of a better term, as well as your ability to manipulate time. It has also apparently bonded to your cells and kept them reproducing perfectly, which accounts for your lack of aging, as well as why you didn't change your appearance when you revived." He batted long curls out of his face impatiently. "It doesn't make sense, though. Everything I've read about the Vortex has said that it's an enormously destructive force, not the universe's best preservative."
"Did people do much research on the Vortex on Gallifrey?"
He paused. "Well, no. And no one's actually been mad enough to experiment with it—it's far too dangerous."
Now it was Rose's turn to frown. "Well, then, how do they know how dangerous it is?"
"It just is, all right? That's one of the first lessons any Time Lord in training learns. The Vortex is not to be played with. Gods, when I think about everything that could go wrong…"
"Seems to me there's a lot of theory, but not much evidence there. I could understand why they'd want to play up how dangerous it is, though."
The Doctor frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well, think about it. Time Lords try to keep the timelines on an even keel, yeah? What'd happen if there were more people like me poppin' up everywhere, travelling wherever we wanted an' never aging?"
"It'd be chaos." He blinked. "So you would posit that it's been deliberately suppressed as an area of study?"
"Makes sense to me, yeah. From everything you told me, Time Lords like to be in control. Havin' someone like me wandering around time and space as I wanted would probably drive 'em batty."
The Doctor paled. "I can't say that I'd disagree with them, really."
Rose flinched and stepped back, but the Doctor spun and caught her wrist gently, penitence written clearly across his face. "Rose, wait. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
She raised her chin, trying to ignore the tears prickling in her eyes. "How'd you mean it, then?"
His free hand clenched and loosened. "The TARDIS loved and trusted you enough to give you this. Rassilon knows I make enough mistakes, but she doesn't. But this… Rose, she's made you effectively immortal, and given you the power to bend time to your will. Can you imagine what would happen to the Universe if anyone found out about this? Not just humans, either, but Time Lords? Gods, what if the Master ever heard about you? He may have been swallowed by the Eye of Harmony, but he's come back from worse before. He's infiltrated my TARDIS before. There's nowhere in all of time and space you would be safe from him, if he heard what had happened to you." The Doctor's eyes closed, and he sat heavily on a creaky leather stool.
His eyes snapped up to hers, and when he broke the fraught silence it was the Oncoming Storm who spoke. "How frequently have you called on these powers, Rose?"
She snorted. "Not much, I can tell you that. They leave me wiped most of the time—'s why it got so nasty in Pete's World. I'd gotten used to needing less sleep than anyone else I knew, and then time started goin' wonky on me, and I needed more. After that time with the lorry, I was comatose for nearly a week. Freaked Mum right out, that's for sure." She dropped her eyes. "An' even after I started getting used to 'em, after I made the jump back to our first visit, I'm fair certain I was asleep in the Zero Room for a couple days. So no, I don't use 'em that often. Not really a fan of playin' Sleeping Beauty, me."
The Doctor nodded absentmindedly, but his expression was still grave. "You're incredibly lucky I was the one who noticed you, Rose. I don't even want to think what would happen to you if you somehow caught the Council's attention."
She frowned. "The Council?"
He blinked for a moment and narrowed his eyes. "The High Council, on Gallifrey. The ruling body for all Time Lords? Surely I must have mentioned it before."
Rose swallowed, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Right, yeah. That Council. 'Course."
"Rose…"
Her voice was low and harsh when she interrupted him. "Don't ask. Please. Just don't."
The Doctor watched her carefully, and she had to fight the urge to shiver. She'd forgotten the way he could stare right through her somehow, that inhuman concentration that made her feel like he was examining her soul. God, no matter what incarnation he was, it seemed he was mercurial and intense. If the other Time Lords were as big a bunch of stuffed shirts as he'd made them seem, no wonder he'd never fit in there. She felt a tickle on the edge of her consciousness and slammed her mental walls up, glaring at him. To his credit, he flushed and looked away.
"An' what was that? Thought you said you wouldn't listen in on my thoughts. Too rude, I thought," she bit out.
The Doctor sighed and slumped on the stool, his years somehow visible despite the young face. She'd never met anyone else who could look so old with just a shift in expression.
"That was unpardonably rude of me, and I do apologize." He met her eyes tiredly. "I'm sorry, Rose. I am. It's just… there's something coming for me." He laughed, and it was not a happy sound. "I've felt it for as long as I've had this body, something lying in wait just beyond my sight. If it were dangerous merely for myself, I wouldn't mind near so much, but it's much bigger than just me. Whatever's coming, it will shake the foundations of the entire universe." He fisted a hand in his soft hair, pulling painfully. "And I don't know what it is. I've never been a patient person, Rose, you must know that. Something terrible is coming and I can't stop it, can't make it better. All I can do is wait for the storm to break."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath, but opened them in surprise when Rose pulled him off the chair and into her arms. He relaxed into her embrace, his slender form quaking. After a long moment, he turned his head and kissed her urgently, his tongue pressing against her mouth. She opened to him, pulling him closer, trying to give him in physical comfort what she couldn't in words. The infirmary was eerily silent but for the soft sounds of their mouths pressing together, of Rose's panting when she pulled away momentarily to regain her breath. The Doctor trailed his mouth across her cheek, forging a path of kisses that danced down her neck. Rose gasped when he paused at her pulse point, nipping and then soothing the mark with his tongue.
