Title: A Blue Gravel Path
Characters: The Doctor, Rose Tyler, among others
Warnings: PG. Oh, and it's baby!fic.
Spoilers: For the sake of this story, S4 never happens.
Chapter Eight: Journey Ends, Journey Begins... The Doctor and Genevieve work together, but Elizabeth's heart is broken. Carissa and Jackie work together, and Mickey's heart is healed.
Chapter Eight: Journey Ends, Journey Begins
It was hard work dismantling the golden web, more so because while the alien working with the Doctor was highly telepathic, it was also a baby.
"But I like her," Janie said as she helped him unravel the threads. They spoke to each other in the same sort of way he spoke to his own children, thoughts racing back and forth like multiple conversations, dizzying and complete with smells and tastes and touch. Dex was right; Janie had peach-flavored thoughts, sweet and tangy, and she'd very patiently listened to his instructions at first, before dutifully fixing her own mistakes. "I know I have to let the rest of them go, but can't I keep her?"
"No," said the Doctor, and gave the thread a tug, unleashing another serving girl. It was the third servant done, and they still hadn't managed to release either Rose or Dex, much less the princess herself. The web was so tangled, he couldn't tell which threads led where; they'd simply picked a thread and followed it along the line. "You shouldn't even stay here, Janie, much less keep her."
"But where would I go?"
"With me. Careful with the twist, there, you don't want to be too harsh."
"It's all wrapped up in knots. What if I don't want to go with you?"
"If it's any help, I don't particularly want you either."
"Then why ask me?"
The Doctor shrugged, an admittedly odd move for a telepathic conversation. "I've been told you're meant to be with me. Elizabeth asks me about you."
"When?"
"In her future, and my past. All right, you tug on this one now."
Janie tugged, a little too hard, and the woman at the end of the line was startled awake. "Ooops," said Janie, guilty, but the woman touched her temple, shook her head, and went back to sleep. "Will she be all right?"
"Bit of a headache when she wakes up, but I think so. Pick another one."
They worked in silence for three more people, and then Janie spoke again. "I want to keep her."
"No," repeated the Doctor.
Another two people, and Janie repeated her wish. "Please, Doctor? I'm being very good about the rest of them."
"No."
Finally, only Rose, Dex, and Elizabeth were left. It was easy to tell the threads now, and Janie had long since mastered the art of it, but the Doctor still watched. Janie crept down Rose's line, very careful to unravel it along the way, moving with such precision and care that the Doctor half thought she believed such diligence might be rewarded with the granting of her request. When at last one small connection remained, Janie pushed it just a bit toward him.
"Do you want to?" she asked.
He did, very much, and gave the thread the smallest tug. Silvery-turquoise flooded over him, washing him in cool relief, and he sighed in it, closing his eyes and relishing the sensation of Rose.
She slept, and though he could sense how tired she was, he didn't want to go another minute without hearing her voice. Janie headed toward Dex's threads, and the Doctor left her to it while his physical self crossed to where Rose lay sleeping, and gave her a kiss, pressing his lips to hers.
Rose's eyes fluttered as he drew away, and for a moment she looked confused and lost — and then the telepathic bond sprang into action as she realized it was active again. "Doctor," she breathed, and sat up, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face into his neck. "Oh, you're there."
"Rose." He grinned, and held her tightly. He felt Dex's green thoughts spring to life behind him, and Rose began laughing, pulling out of the hug to kiss him soundly on the lips before she raced to her son. She fell on the floor before the child and pulled him into a hug.
"Mummy," groaned Dex, but Rose took no notice.
"Such a clever boy," she told him. "To tell Janie about the Doctor! You did exactly right."
"I know," said Dex, and squirmed as his mother gave him a kiss.
The Doctor scooped Nina up in his arms, still soundly asleep, and Rose kissed Dex once more before returning to take her daughter again. Dex trotted after her, and made faces as his parents kissed again.
"Ew," he said.
"You'll like it well enough one day," his father told him.
"No, I won't."
The Doctor thought he saw something glint behind Dex, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He looked over to Elizabeth then, who stood near the fireplace, staring at them. The golden thread that linked her and Janie were still strong, and Janie seemed to have stopped unraveling them.
"Janie," said the Doctor, both aloud and telepathically, "you have to keep going."
"No. I don't want to let her go."
"Janie, we talked about this."
"Dad?" asked Dex, but the Doctor didn't hear him.
"Please don't make me," she whimpered, and the Doctor left his family to kneel next to the crib. Tears streamed down the child's face, and he leaned in to touch her temples.
"Dad," repeated Dex, more urgently. "It's not Janie."
The Doctor frowned, recognizing the mind inside the child, and realizing it hadn't been the one speaking just then. "No, it isn't."
"Don't make me let her go," said Elizabeth. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she leaned against the fireplace as though she might fall down if she let go of the wall. Her entire body was shaking, her chest heaving, and dimly, the Doctor could tell that she was clinging for dear life to the threads binding her to the baby.
"Elizabeth," he said gently, it needs to be done."
"No."
"You know now — she's not of this Earth, despite her name. She can't stay here. She needs more than you or your England can give her."
"She's mine. I won't ever have another."
"I'm sorry," said the Doctor.
"It's not enough!"
Slowly, the Doctor himself began to unravel the threads. Janie crept after him, placing them in order, and Elizabeth could only watch as the web grew dimmer and dimmer, every thread slipping away.
"It was so lovely," said Elizabeth, watching the golden threads slip away. "Holding her. Feeling her feed into me, all that love and trust. I could feel my heart pound inside my chest, like it'd grown a thousand sizes larger. The whole world was a bubble around us, none of it mattered, just her and me. No one else. And love — oh! I think my mother must have felt it for me, when I was young and tender, when no one else loved me — she did. When no one else loves Janie, I will — and you're taking it away. The only love I'll ever feel, and I can see it slip away before my eyes."
A hand touched the Doctor's shoulder; he looked to see Rose standing beside him, with Nina in her arms. Nina was awake now, her head resting on Rose's breast, looking at her father with trusting blue eyes. Rose's mouth trembled.
"Don't," she said. "Not all of it. Please."
He stopped, two threads short of done, and let go.
The baby began to cry, and Elizabeth rushed over to scoop the child in her arms, kissing her face wildly, their tears intermingling. "Hush, my love, hush, my Genevieve," the princess murmured, and cradled the baby next to her breast. "Oh, love, my Janie. It's all right. We're still together. Can't you feel it? It's not as strong, but it's there."
Rose knelt next to the Doctor and kissed him, resting her forehead against his. "Thank you," she whispered.
He shook his head, refusing the thanks, and she cupped his cheek in her hand, lowering to look into his eyes. "You're a good man, you know that?"
"No," he said, and she kissed him again, her lips warm against his, her tongue wet and full. She tasted of peppermint — or perhaps that was just the silvery-turquoise that wrapped him round like a blanket.
"Doctor," said Elizabeth, and he broke the kiss to stand, facing the princess.
"Lady," he said.
"Thank you. I know you won't take it — but thank you. You are correct about Genevieve — she is a child born of the stars. She deserves nothing less in her life." Elizabeth's breath caught for a moment, and she turned her gaze down to the child who looked up at her intently. "I can't give it to her. But she tells me you can."
The Doctor swallowed. "I can."
Elizabeth took a step forward. She settled the baby into the Doctor's arms while her hands shook, and she dropped a kiss on the small forehead. "It's true, is it not — I'll never love a child as I love her?"
"It's true."
"Then I send my heart with you, Sir Doctor of TARDIS. Take care of her, or my deep and abiding trust will turn you into my greatest enemy. Bring her to see me again."
Donald Tyler was clearly flummoxed to see them so early in the morning. "D-d-doctor Jones?" he asked, his voice raising in a squeak, completely unbecoming in a man of 32 years. "I wasn't on the schedule last night, was I? I'm sure I had it marked as a day off–"
Dr Jones smiled reassuringly. "You're fine, Dr Tyler. I'm here with Mr Smith."
"You're unusually early," said Donald to Mickey, relieved to no longer be on the spot with his supervisor. "Mum's just finished with her breakfast."
"She asked me to look into something, and I didn't think she would want to wait. Is it all right if we go up?"
"Go on, it's fine. Molly's in with her now. You know the way."
Mickey led the way up the stairs, with Dr Jones following close behind. Carissa moved more slowly, looking at the photographs that lined the stairwell. She stopped on the landing, her gaze falling on a smaller photograph in a black frame. Dr Jones joined her after a moment, and when Mickey reached the top of the stairs, they were still there, looking.
"Such a lonely picture," murmured Carissa, her voice longing.
"Rose," said Mickey thickly. "Her mother is upstairs waiting."
Carissa turned away and continued up the steps; Dr Jones took another moment before tearing her gaze from the picture and meeting Mickey's eyes. He wondered then why she'd followed them to the house — professional curiosity, or something else? — and while Carissa began moving down the hall, continuing to gaze at the photographs that lined it, Mickey waited for the doctor to join him.
"I've never met you before, have I?" asked the doctor.
"No," said Mickey.
"Only — Rose looks familiar to me, for some reason. I don't know why."
"She lived here for a year, before going back to the Doctor. About thirty years ago — maybe you knew her."
"No," said Dr Jones. "I don't — no."
They found Carissa standing outside of Jackie's door, resting her forehead against it, her fingers splayed on the frame.
"She's in here," breathed Carissa. "Rose's mother. I can tell. She's — different. She's like you, Mr Smith. Neither of you belong here. Now Dr Jones, she has a strange electricity about her, but it matches the electricity all around us in this world. But you, Mr Smith — you and me, and Rose's mother — even Rose in the photograph below — we don't have it. We don't belong in this world. Oh, yes. We're from the same place, the four of us. I'm sure of it."
Mickey swallowed. "Come inside, I'll introduce you."
Molly sat beside her mother's bed, reading aloud from the morning paper, and looked up when they entered. "Oh, hullo, Uncle Mick," she said cheerfully. "Didn't expect you this early — and you've brought a lady friend, look at that, Mum! Uncle Mick's on the prowl."
"Just because I'm here with two women doesn't mean I'm on the prowl," said Mickey, and Molly gave him an odd look.
"You must have lost one along the way, because I only see the one in a doctor's coat, Uncle Mick."
Mickey glanced at Carissa, but she shook her head and stepped into the background. Molly continued talking.
"I'm Molly Tyler, very pleased to meet you."
"Martha Jones," said the doctor, and from the bed, Jackie gave out a small gasp. Molly quickly turned to her mother, reaching for her hand.
"Mum?"
"I'm all right," said Jackie Tyler, brushing her daughter away. "Let me talk with Mickey and Martha, won't you, love? You can read me the news later."
"If you like." Molly leaned into give her mother a kiss on the cheek. "Give a holler if they try anything funny, now."
Molly gave Mickey a wolfish grin on her way out, shutting the door behind her.
Jackie moved her gaze from Mickey to Martha Jones and back again, before resting her eyes on the figure behind them both.
"I don't know where to begin asking," she said.
The woman walked forward, until she stood at the end of Jackie's bed. "Hello."
"My daughter couldn't see you?"
"No," said Carissa. "Tell me about Rose."
Jackie swallowed. "She hasn't called in three days. Are you — are you the woman with two hearts? From the hospital?"
"Not quite."
Jackie turned her gaze to Dr. Jones. "I didn't think you were so old. The way Rose talked, I thought you were her age, perhaps a little older."
Mickey's blood went cold, but Dr. Jones didn't even blink.
"I never knew your daughter, Mrs. Tyler, I'm sorry."
Jackie frowned. "She talks about you. You — oh. You're the Martha Jones from this world, aren't you?"
"I suppose I am. The — the other Martha? She knows Rose?"
"She traveled with the Doctor. She delivered my grandchildren."
Dr. Jones began to smile. "She's a doctor, too?"
"Not everything changes, from world to world," said Carissa softly, running her hands down the walls as she circled the room, until she stood next to the head of Jackie's bed. "But Rose — she doesn't exist in this world."
"No," said Jackie. "She didn't belong here, my Rose. That's why I sent her back to the Doctor."
"How?"
"He called it a crossroads. Blue box in one of the basements of Torchwood — Mickey can show you."
"He will," said Carissa. She let her hand drift toward Jackie's temples. "May I?'
Jackie looked at her warily for a moment, uncertain. She glanced at Mickey and Dr Jones, and then nodded. Carissa settled on the bed, facing her, and rested her fingertips on the older woman's temples, closing her eyes.
I'm dying, you see.
"Oh," the Time Lady breathed. "Oh — I'm sorry."
"Everyone does, eventually," said Jackie. "I would like to see Pete again."
I wanted to see the Doctor, before I died.
"Are you dead then?"
"Yes," said Carissa. "Only a memory now, and fading fast."
As I will fade from Rose's.
Do you regret sending her away?
Jackie jerked away from Carissa's fingers; the sudden break in contact gave her a sharp pain, but Carissa seemed unaffected. "I don't regret anything," said Jackie, angrily, and she might have continued but for the coughing that racked her just then.
Dr Jones was at the beside in a moment, holding out a glass of water with a straw, and Jackie took it, sipping as deeply as she could.
"You should go," the doctor told Carissa. "She isn't well."
"She'll die whether I sit here or not," said Carissa quietly. "She asked after me, says Mickey Smith. I rather think she has something to say, and I won't leave before she says it."
The coughing fit subsided, and Jackie looked up from the glass with damp eyes. "I saw, when you looked in my head. You're like him, aren't you? A Time Lord?"
"I was, when I was alive."
"You knew him."
"I did, for many years."
"You know how to cross between worlds then, don't you?" asked Jackie, and Carissa paused before answering.
"I do. It was my home, your world, before I died and came here."
Jackie grasped Carissa's arm with a thin, veined hand. "Please," she said, her voice soft. "Please. Take me home. I want to see Rose again. When I die — and it won't be long now — take me home with you."
They stood next to each other, Mickey Smith and Martha Jones, very much alone in the cold metal room. They didn't look at each other — each was too transfixed by the scene before them, two figures fading into blue as if they'd never been. Tears ran down Martha's cheeks; she had never seen anything half as beautiful in her life. Tears pooled in Mickey's eyes; he had, and had forgotten, and would not forget again.
Without even realizing, their hands reached for the other and clasped together, fingers locking together. Their hands fit, comfortable and warm, giving them the strength to remain for the last moments. They waited for the end before glancing at each other, hands clasped together, chests heaving. There was no more to see. They were alone.
Mickey Smith and Martha Jones left Room Negative 27 behind them, and locked the door for good.
