Chapter 10

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Rose woke with a groan, lifting her head from the floor as she blinked her eyes clear. According to her internal clock, she'd been unconscious for twenty-seven minutes. Not that long in the scheme of things, but far too long for her to be comfortable with—she wasn't sure what device the white-haired man had used on her, but it wasn't anything native to the Earth. The Doctor had spent long enough detailing what things would and wouldn't affect her now for her to know that, at least.

She pushed herself up from the floor, grimacing at the weakness that weighed down her limbs and the resounding silence in her head. The absence of the Doctor sat in her mind like a phantom limb. She'd have thought she'd be used to being alone in her own head, what with being a human for the first twenty-four years of her life, but the resounding emptiness that filled her now was completely different. She closed her eyes and pushed past the crushing loneliness, trying to ignore the small voice that reminded her that this was what the Doctor had lived with for years, this complete and utter desolation.

Gwen was sprawled across the floor next to her, her neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. Rose sighed and straightened her out, checking her vitals quickly—heartbeat steady, temperature slightly lowered due to unconsciousness, and pupils responsive to the light. She was alive and well, just not waking up. Rose touched her temples gently and closed her eyes, brushing against Gwen's consciousness without pause. She opened her eyes and sighed. Perfectly healthy, but it would take her a while to come back. She was still deep in the trance of whatever instrument had ensnared them, and she wouldn't be waking soon.

Rose stood carefully, stretching out against the aches and pains that had accompanied her crouch. For the first time, she stopped to consider the room they were in. Small, with one window set against the back wall and an oak door leading to the front. They were surrounded by clocks—small, large, and medium; analog or digital; tall, unwieldy grandfather clocks and a small case of pocket watches—this place had them all, and not one of them was moving. Rose frowned and moved around the room, studying one after the other. The hands were almost vibrating in place with the need to move forward, but not a one shifted. She stared out the back window into the alley behind and shivered. A plastic bag was frozen mid-tumble in the air, hovering above the trash.

She spun and ran to the door, yanking it open and running through it—only to stumble to a stop when she nearly tripped over Gwen as she once again entered the room. Wherever they were, it was a closed loop. Rose grimaced and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, pacing back and forth across the floor as she glared at the clocks. Sure, she'd seen Groundhog Day, but no one had warned her it could be bloody well real. She sighed and sat on the floor next to Gwen, absentmindedly shrugging off her jacket and laying it over the other woman. Considering her life, she really shouldn't be surprised. The Doctor had probably been a consultant.

A small, black and white photo high up on the wall caught her eye as she stood and she stepped closer, stretching up on her tip-toes and wishing she weren't so short. The photograph was remarkably old, a fine spiderweb of cracks spreading out from the deep fold across the center. The subject was still recognizable, though—it was the same man who'd kidnapped them, dressed in a stiff waistcoat and a long, dark overcoat. Faded ink on the back proclaimed him Bilis Manger, and Rose frowned. He was standing in front of a small storefront, and something about the scene was eerily familiar...

"I see you've found my little memento." Rose spun to face the white-haired man—Bilis—but he ignored her, continuing. "It's a bit silly to keep it after all this time, I suppose, but nostalgia always was a weakness of mine." His odd, almost feline eyes locked onto hers. "It should look familiar to you as well, you know. After all, what happened was your fault—yours and the Doctor's."

Rose looked pointedly at Gwen, still unconscious on the floor, and raised her chin as she glared at Bilis. "So where's he, then? Whatever problems you've got with us, how 'bout you deal with us and leave the innocent bystanders of it, yeah?"

His lips quirked up as he glanced down at Gwen. "Oh, but she's far from innocent, this one. You should ask her fiance—or maybe you should ask her lover." He waved a hand airily. "Regardless, she'll serve her purpose. She is perhaps less powerful than her ancestress was, but she'll do."

Rose swallowed heavily. "Do for what?"

Why, to open the Rift, my dear! Oh, don't look at me like that—you should be happy! After all, it was your work, opening it in the first place."

"That's not true! I didn't want that, I never did—an' you can't." Rose looked back at the photo. Now she knew why it looked so familiar. The little clock shop he was standing so proudly in front of was right next door to the Sneed and Company funeral parlor. "Gwyneth died, Mr. Manger. The shop blew up."

He had been absentmindedly looking over the clocks, but after she spoke he spun around, his face contorted with sudden rage. "You think I don't know that, you little fool? I was there, that night—my Edmund and I were down in the cellar next door. Somehow I survived, through I didn't know yet why I did. But Edmund, my Edmund—he was not so lucky." He laughed harshly, composing himself carefully. "As if luck had anything to do with it. The Rift saved me that night, and it's been speaking to me ever since. It screams for freedom, and your Doctor will give us all the freedom we crave."

Rose scoffed. "An' what makes you think he would ever do somethin' like that?"

"It's quite simple, really." He leaned forward on the balls of his feet, pressing into Rose's space. She refused to back down. "I kill you." He sighed mockingly. "It's quite a tragic tale, really. The immortal and the simple little human girl he loves. Perhaps I should speed things up—I do so hate prolonged endings."

"So do I." He looked up, startled, as Rose suddenly pressed her fingers to his temples and tore through his mind, dragging him down into unconsciousness. She glared down at his body as he slumped to the floor. "An' I may have been a bit daft, but I was never simple." She rolled him over and bit her lip. The Doctor was going to absolutely hate that she'd invaded another being's mind like that, but if it got Gwen out safely then, well, he'd have to deal with it.

Rose glanced around and then dug in his pockets—the clocks in the little room may have been frozen, but she'd heard a small, tell-tale ticking noise ever since he'd first appeared. She made a small noise of triumph as she pulled out his simple gold pocket watch (thankfully, nothing like the Doctor's), and a sudden cacophony filled the air. Countless second hands marched forward, their subtle clicking echoing like a swarm of otherworldly insects. Rose leaned over Gwen and gently pressed her fingers to her forehead, waking her as a trio of pigeons cooed in the alleyway behind them.

Rose?

Rose closed her eyes in relief, stepping away from Gwen to sag against the wall. 'M here, Doctor.

His overwhelming relief flooded through their connection, and she melted into the psychic comfort as Gwen woke slowly. Thank Rassilon. That's it. The instant I find you, we're starting the bond.

Y'know, it might be useful for me to actually know what that whole bond thing means. She paused for a moment. Also for the creepy bloke who's been manipulating the Rift to be locked up.

There was a sudden spike of cold, bitter rage, and Rose shivered. He'll be dealt with, Rose.

She frowned, remembering an underground bunker in Utah a few years from now. Stop it. Whatever you're plannin', just stop—it won't do anyone any good.

The group of refugees who've been dragged away from everything they knew would disagree with you.

Rose tightened her jaw, leaning her head back against the wall. "Yeah, or you would. Which is it, Doctor?"

"What?"

Rose blinked her eyes open, staring into Gwen's confused face. "Sorry, talkin' to myself."

She raised a dark eyebrow. "You call yourself Doctor, then?"

Rose flushed nearly as bright a pink as her namesake. "Right, yeah. We've got this thing, like Bluetooth but smaller—"

"It's something alien, isn't it?"

She closed her mouth with a click and nodded. "Somethin' like that, yeah."

A wind began to whip around them, and Rose stepped closer to Gwen as the TARDIS materialized around them and Bilis' unconscious form. Gwen looked a little green, and as soon as the TARDIS had fully formed around them, Jack wrapped his arms around her. The Doctor was standing by the console, staring forward with a twitch in his jaw.

Owen and Ianto moved to lock Bilis in a pair of Torchwood cuffs, and Rose cleared her throat. "Those won't work on him."

The Torchwood doctor glared at her. "Yeah? Why not?"

"'Cause he'd just disappear right out of 'em." She glanced up at the Doctor, who was still stubbornly not looking at her. Daft man.

Oi. I heard that.

I meant you to. "It's hard to explain, but he's a kind of mutant. He's been infected with the Rift, an' he can control it—he's like a living Rift manipulator."

Owen's hostility faded, and his eyebrows rose. "How'd that happen?"

"Dunno the particulars, but from what he said, it was 'cause of an accident with the Rift a while ago."

Ianto's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "How long ago is 'a while ago'? We've found records of him dating back for at least a century."

Rose swallowed. "It was in 1869." The Doctor's eyes snapped to hers. You don't mean... ?

I do mean. Turns out more people than Gwyneth an' Sneed were hurt that night.

He turned away from the console to stare down at Bilis, his eyes wide. Jack let Gwen go with a pat on her back and spoke up, his hands in his pockets. "He's been busy around here. He was Margaret the Slitheen's campaign manager, if you'd believe it."

"I do." At Jack's curious look, she sighed. "He was trying to use me to get the Doctor to open the Rift. If he was workin' for Margaret back then, it was prob'ly for the same reason."

Gwen frowned. "What's a Slitheen?"

Jack raised an eyebrow as he glanced at her. "Tell you later. First things first, though, time to deal with this guy."

The Doctor looked up, his gaze still dark. "Agreed." He paced around the console, pulling levers and twisting dials, and Rose stood back against the wall to watch. The TARDIS' familiar thrum buzzed through her bones, and she sighed and leaned back against the wall. If he tries anything funny, you let me know, alright?

The TARDIS hummed an agreement, and Rose nodded and slid down to sit against the wall. Bilis Manger was guarded by the Doctor and very nearly the entirety of Torchwood. He wasn't about to get out.

Rose closed her eyes and slept.

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