Chapter 7: Prelude to War
The Doctor suspects that he's finally lost it. Gone bonkers. Lost his mind. Madness abounds. Admittedly, he's been accused of it before. Only thing is that, this time, he's starting to believe it. How else can he explain seeing Rose Tyler again? Feverish imaginings, perhaps? Weird mould in the air? Sonic screwdriver not working properly, conjuring an image rather than locking the door like he's trying to do?
Did, that is. He hears the click that indicates that door is as nicely secure as he can make it.
But, no, it doesn't matter how many times he blinks, she's still here. Still staring at him in shock. He knows he's gaping, but he supposes he can be excused. It's not every day that he sees someone he thought he lost forever – I'm so sorry, Rose – standing in front of him.
"Doctor?" Benton asks and he finds himself thankful for the distraction.
"Yup! Hello, Benton! Colonel now, too, I see. Brilliant, that. Just brilliant." He grins at the officer and he waves his fingers at him, telling himself that it isn't really an aborted move to reach for Rose. "But, really, not much time to chat, there's..."
"Doctor," Rose says, curbing anything else he might've said. Really, everything that is in his mind just disappears, focusing everything upon her. It really is her. Really is Rose. And it's just like before, isn't it? Only this time without Cybermen and Daleks and pesky Rifts and…
"How?" he manages to say before shaking himself. There'll be time enough to find out how this could've happened later. Not that he's disappointed it's happened, anything but. In fact, he might be thinking about kis…no. No, no, double no. Bad idea. Really, really bad idea. "No, wait. No time for a nice chat. Bit of an Ice Warrior problem here, you see. But later, yeah?"
Oh, he shouldn't, but it's too tempting. She's too tempting. And, well, the Ice Warriors can wait for a few minutes while he indulges himself, right? And she's apparently working with UNIT too, which is brilliant. Everything's brilliant, actually. But he doesn't really care about UNIT at this moment. No, his attention's still focused on her.
She's a bit older he thinks. No more than a couple of years, really, though he can't tell that from her appearance. More from how she holds herself. It's still Rose. His Rose. And she's here. She's bloody here and that's fantastic. "There is, though, time for this," he says and, before he can do more than start to open his arms, she's there, snaking her arms around him, under his trench-coat, squeezing him tightly.
He's close enough now to smell her shampoo – same one, he realises, that she used to use. She feels the same in his arms, just the same, as if years haven't gone by since he's seen her last. He thinks he could spend eternity just holding her, remembering everything that they had and everything that he lost but now regained. "Rose," he begins before cutting himself off again, firmly telling himself that he's not self-conscious when he releases her from his embrace. But he doesn't let her go far, instead entwining their fingers.
It's been so long.
It's brighter, he realises. Seems the soldiers decided to bring their own light to this little party. At least two torches light the area now, revealing that that this is just another hallway. A dark hallway. He can see the barest hint of a door just at the edge of the light and he smiles. Yes. Another corridor. Mysterious, maybe. Damp, sort of. Just the sort of thing that he loves, really.
Just better now that she's here.
"Doctor," Benton says, a measure of reprimand in his voice and something else. Maybe a bit of satisfaction? "What's going on?"
"Oh, that's the difficult part. Well, not difficult. Simple, actually. The Ice Warriors have invaded," he says, feeling the urge – and he blames this on the giddiness he's still feeling over Rose's appearance – to make some sort of sound effect to accompany that proclamation.
"They want to use the nuclear reactor as a catalyst in their plans to terraform, er, well, martian-form your planet. Mars has got a bit chilly for the blokes and they're just looking for a new home. Problem is that this faction doesn't see a problem with pushing you lot aside to do it."
"An' how do we stop them? Seems that conventional weapons don't even dent 'em," Rose says, earning her a startled look. Conventional weapons? Did she just say 'conventional weapons'? Makes him wonder what she's been up to since he's last seen her.
"Oh, the standard shoot 'em up procedure that UNIT's famous for won't work with these aliens. They've got armour. Lots of armour. You've just faced one of their typical soldiers. Just think what a group of that lot can do," he replies.
"Then how are we supposed to stop them?" Benton asks, exasperated.
He grins, lost for a moment in fond recollections of his time with UNIT. "You're not. I am."
"Not alone," Rose says, tightening her grip on his hand. "We've got a stake in this too, Doctor. 'S our planet. Besides, knowing you, you're plannin' on finding the leader and tryin' to prattle him into submission. That won't work an' you're gonna end up captured. Then we're going to have to rescue you. So, can we skip the getting captured part an' get to the part where we save the day?"
He gapes at her. She just… Is she agreeing with him or disagreeing? And how does she know… oh, right. Of course she does. "I wasn't planning," he begins, but curbs himself after he sees her unimpressed look. "Well, maybe I was. A bit. Simplest way to find out what they're up to, besides trying to turn the Earth into a day spa for Ice Warriors, really. Oh, and you got the order wrong, Rose," he tells her.
"I did?" she asks, looking confused.
"The plan's for me to get captured first."
She suspects that Fate is currently laughing at her. Either that or it's the part of her that had given up hope at ever seeing him again, breaking apart at the reality. She's torn, really. She doesn't want him going into danger, where he might end up regenerating again. This neediness, this fear, frightens her.
This is what happened before, she realises. In the wake of his regeneration, she didn't want to lose him and so became possessive, jealous, claiming him in ways that she had no business doing. Just because she loved him and he loved her doesn't make him her possession. Doesn't give her the right to want to hold onto him, to keep him safe, to never let him out of her sight again.
She shakes herself and that possessiveness disappears, almost as if it never was. She's learned. She can't keep him any more than she can keep a star in the palm of her hand. It's time she stops acting like a lovesick teenager and acts her age.
Question is, though, is this right? Should she even be considering travelling with him after everything that's come before? What's to say that she'll be good for him now? Sure, she's had a few years to think things through, to realise her mistakes, but what's to say that she won't repeat them?
Different guise, same effect? They always were too much of a clique. Mickey saw it, experienced it. Even when he left her for Mme. de Pompadour, they still were a clique. Didn't matter then, but does it matter now?
She's making a difference here, she knows. With UNIT. Proper universe and everything. If she stays with Benton and the others, she'll still see him once in a while. She just won't be able to hurt him and he her. Not like before.
Besides, if he does ask her to come with him again, what's to say it's not because he's pitying her? What's to say that it's not because she has no-one else? No-one other than a time-travelling alien with a blue police box as his home?
He's obviously moved on. Found someone new and is happy with her – and she's not jealous, damnit. She's not. Doesn't she owe it to him to do the same?
God, she really hasn't been thinking this through. Not coming here, not seeing him again, none of this.
And she's not thinking about the problem they've found themselves in. She fists her free hand, letting the nails bite into her skin. Stop it, she tells herself firmly and turns towards him, catching his concerned gaze.
She tries to smile at him, one of her usual smiles, but finds that her lips refuse to turn upwards. Their reunion - what should be a happy time - has been ruined by her regrets and worries.
Not to mention a certain Ice Warrior Invasion.
"What? You're gonna offer yourself up to the Ice Warriors on a silver platter? That's your plan?" she asks.
"Don't have a silver platter," he says with a brief shrug, still looking at her intently. She fights the urge to squirm under his frank gaze, feeling exposed.
"Besides, should give you lot time to move in. Ring up the Brigadier – not Alistair, I'm assuming, but someone else…Bambera? – and bring in the troops. But, as a bit of an insider's tip, aim for their eye-pieces. Only vulnerable bit on them thanks to that armour of theirs."
She's doing it again. Shutting everyone else out but the Doctor. She can't do that. Not here, not now. She's got responsibilities.
It's about time she lives up to them.
"Sir?" she asks, deferring to Benton and attempting to ignore the Doctor's amazed expression.
"I don't like it, Doctor. But you somehow manage to muddle-"
"Oi!" the Doctor protests. "I never muddle."
"-your way through. I'll contact Brigadier Bambera," he says, signalling for one of the surviving soldiers to bring the radio to him.
The colonel steps away from them, speaking earnestly into the radio. He only pauses to listen to the response, though she can't hear it. She suspects that she knows what the response will be, though. If Bambera's anything, it's efficient.
They'll come.
"Rose?" the Doctor asks, pulling her attention away from Benton. "I'll have to go in a few minutes, but… are you all right?"
She can't help the automatic response. "I'm always all right." She doesn't miss his flinch or the guilt that rises within her at that reaction. She's completely daft. "Sorry, 's just… I'm not used to this any more." No, that's a lie. She's still used to it. Far, far too much.
If holding his hand is a bit like coming home, what's it going to be like when she has to finally choose? To stay or to go? Then again, she's never considered herself a coward.
"Not used to danger? Running for your life with your best mate at your side?" he asks her in disbelief, though she can see laughter in his eyes. "Impossible. I can't see you sitting still, eating your beans on toast, and letting everyone else have all the fun."
The sudden tightness, almost a stretching feeling, she senses on her cheeks makes her realise that she's smiling. The first real smile she's had all day. "Nothing's impossible," she tells him, feeling a pang shoot through her at her words. She really has become like him, hasn't she?
"No," he replies softly, his earlier humour replaced with another emotion too nebulous for her to identify. "You're here, after all."
She's not sure how to respond, feeling cut off from the world around them. The Ice Warriors, Benton, the soldiers, they don't matter. There's just the Doctor and herself. Sealed together by the strength of his gaze. She feels as if all her fears, her doubts, her worries have been laid bare before him. But, amazingly, he doesn't seem to mind. That ephemeral emotion still swirls in his dark eyes and she thinks that she might be able to identify it.
Just a few moments more… And their stare is broken by the sound of Benton clearing his throat.
"Bambera's giving the order, Doctor," the colonel says.
The Doctor nods, sparing her another glance. "Then I best be off. Things to do, aliens to torment and the like. Rose-" Using their entwined hands, he pulls her into a brief, yet intense, embrace. "-be careful. I…" His voice tapers off as he releases her.
"You too," she says and watches intently as he walks away.
"We'll give him ten before we move out," Benton says, not giving her enough time to start to worry. It's better that way and she gives him her thanks in the form of a nod.
Before she can say, or even do, anything, the floor trembles beneath her feet. It's not enough to make her lose her footing, but it is enough to capture her attention.
When it hits again, she looks towards the door. The door that's shuddering in sympathetic echoes with the tremors.
It hits again and she realises that something's striking the door.
The framework of the doorway splinters slightly, cracking against the strain of each impact.
"I don't think we have ten minutes," she says grimly.
He's finding it rather hard to think. No, that's not exactly right. It's more that he's finding it hard to think about anything other than what he's just left behind. Stupid, actually. Could get him killed. And he's just managing to get used to this body. Rather annoying if he has to switch now. Find Rose, regenerate.
Bad idea.
There's a choice ahead of him. Metaphorically and literally. The hallway ends a few feet ahead of him, cut off by a door plastered with yellow hazard signs. Another door is just beside him, covered with nothing more menacing than the remains of a colourful sticker.
"Choices, choices, choices," he mutters, tapping his chin absently with a finger. Straight or to the side. Left or right. Eeenie, meenie…
"Right." He decides. Never let it be said that he doesn't have a method of choosing his path. He likes the letter 'R'.
He opens the door and stops, staring upwards at the looming figure of the Ice Warrior. "Oh, hello! Fancy meeting you here. Just realised, actually. This has got to be the perfect time to say it. Always wanted to, you know. Take me to your leader?"
The Ice Warrior says nothing, instead stepping aside and gesturing with his sonic blaster – clever blokes to hide their weapons in their armour – for him to move.
"Rather talkative sort, aren't you? Have a name? I'm the Doctor, by the way." That got a response.
The alien hisses, pushing him forward. "Doc-tor," it – he? – says, its voice sibilant in the thicker atmosphere of Earth. "You should not be here."
"Never let that stop me before," he replies. "Why should it stop me now?"
"You should not interfere," the alien advises him, pushing him down another hallway. What is it with humans and their hallways, anyway? Why can't they just have a… Right. Not helping.
"I'm not the one interfering with Earth, Bob – mind if I call you Bob? Bit hard to call you anything else since you didn't tell me your name. That'd be you. Well, you and your Ice Warrior friends. Changing the environment to suit your needs? Not very neighbourly of you," he chides.
The newly christened Bob doesn't respond, instead forcing him to move faster. Pity, really. He hoped for a battle of wits. Then again, he should know better. Ice Warriors – at least Ice Warriors of this time period – aren't well known for their silver tongues and sense of humour. More interested in honour and survival, really. Though he thinks it must've taken a lot of hedging to turn this invasion into something even semi-honourable.
"Or honourable, come to think of it," he adds, mentally congratulating himself when he hears Bob miss a step as they walk.
Still the Ice Warrior says nothing, leaving him to find other amusements for himself. So he looks around the hallway. It's long, white, lined with doors and not particularly note-worthy, but the pipes add a homely touch. Or maybe that's just him.
He's shoved suddenly, violently towards the double-doors on the left side of the corridor. There's barely enough time to register the words scrawled in English and Welsh of 'CONTROL ROOM' before he's inside.
Blinking lights, humming computers, frightened technicians and towering aliens. Just what every nuclear power plant needs. He grins at the tallest of the three Ice Warriors inside the room, identifying him as their leader by his smoother, more supple armour. Ease of movement is the key, after all. "Hello! I'm the Doctor."
"You should not be here," the leader says dismissively.
"Everyone's saying that. Why's everyone saying that?" he asks. "Besides, I'm not the only one, if we're going that route. You should be back on Mars, enjoying the red dust and chilly days and nights. Not here. And most especially not inside a nuclear power plant."
"And you should be dead," the Ice Lord says.
He tells himself that he doesn't flinch. In some ways, that's absolutely correct. In others, far from the truth. "Rumours of my death are highly exaggerated," he replies.
"The sky and time all burned. We, who were but on the fringes of your people's war, know. You should not even exist. You have no right to judge us, Time Lord."
"Don't I?" he asks as anger begins a slow burn within him. "You know about the war. You know the cost my people paid. And what do you do? You lot decide to take over the Earth. No-one will care, after all. It's just a tiny little planet, no-one'll miss it when it becomes New Mars. Nope. Sorry. Can't do that. See, I'm rather fond of this little world and of its people."
"And you would condemn us to death? To scrape a meagre existence on our homeworld all because you say it should be so? You are no god to make demands of us, Doctor. This is our right," the leader growls, his soft voice at odds with the threat in his voice.
"And you would condemn humanity to death because you can't accept that your time's over?" His anger is evident in his voice, in his stance. Stupid, stupid aliens. Don't they know that, in time, they become some of humanity's greatest allies? Don't they know that this isn't the way?
"We would have what is our right," the leader corrects him.
"No," he replies. "No, you won't. This is your only chance. To make things right and go home. Let these people go. Stop your environmental modifications. Return to Mars."
The alien gestures minutely at the others and, suddenly, he's held in a strong grasp. For a moment, he actually forgot about Bob. "No. You… Ah. Clever, Doctor." The leader turns and selects a button on the console, pressing gently with his clawed hand.
A screen lights up on the wall, populated with internal CCTV footage. When he sees Rose, he has to fight against revealing that he knows her. Then the camera shifts, revealing the exterior.
Good old UNIT. Good old Bambera. Oldbury is surrounded. He can see that there's at least two breach points as the camera pans around the area. Soldiers are already pouring into the complex.
"You were sent as a distraction." It's not a question, but he treats it as one anyway.
"Yup," he says, grinning. "Brilliant that, no? Thought of it myself."
"Pity," the alien tells him, raising another claw to strike a device set on the console. A high-pitched whine fills the air.
Oh. Oh, no. He knows that sound.
It's the sound of a transmat beam. A rather powerful one. And he sees, on the CCTV images, Ice Warriors appearing in flashes of light.
The camera shifts again, back to Rose and Benton.
He doesn't think they notice the Ice Warrior behind them. They're watching a door, fingering their weapons. No-one turns.
His hearts leap into his throat as the Warrior lifts its arm.
The only direction that the weapons fire can go is obvious. Completely and absolutely obvious.
It's aiming for Rose.
"No!" he shouts as the alien on the screen fires.
The camera view shifts again and all he can see is carnage.
To be continued...
