Chapter Eleven

A/N: Thank you to Syblime for reviewing the last chapter.

For a moment, the Doctor hovered his hand above the lever that would set the TARDIS in motion, as he deliberated whether or not to press it down, therefore abandoning Sybil, the girl he had promised himself he would protect, and for another second, he moved his hand downwards, so that it rested on the handle. It would not be the first time that someone had been left behind, because they had wanted to change the world, when it was not their place to change it. 'But that is why I have to save her.' he realised, releasing the lever before he had had the chance to move it an inch. 'I will not allow another person to die because of me.'

And so, with a sigh akin to one of frustration, though it was merely laced with worry, he sprinted in the direction of the door, slamming it behind him as he began to search the thick crowds of people for the young woman who had run away to help them. He should have foreseen that this would have happened, as Sybil would never accept that nothing could be done when the opportunity stood before her to change that fact, no matter how drastic the consequences would end up being.

He did not know how it was possible, in the sea of dark haired people, but he managed to spot the young woman within a couple of minutes. Though it took him another half of a minute to reach her, as the crowd was so dense, the Doctor eventually managed to do so, and wrapped his arms tightly around her, the reality of the situation having finally crept up on him.

"What did you think you were doing?" the Time Lord questioned, intending to sound harsh in the demand, but unable to keep the affection from creeping into his tone. The man tried to stop himself from sighing in annoyance once he had realised this. It made acting serious an extremely difficult task, when he was unable to keep himself from smiling with the relief of having found his charge before it was too late. "Sybil, I know that you are trying to help people, and I know that you only have good intentions, but you need to accept that there is nothing either of us can do. I'm sorry."

"But if we never try to help them, Doctor, then how will we know if there is anything we can do to save them?" Sybil questioned, the desperation quite clear in her eyes, within which she was blinking back the tears that were gathering. Her point would not be helped by an overflow of emotion, and this was something that the young woman knew very well, having spent years in a household full of women that could use tears as a weapon, mostly to no avail, and having learnt that that style of arguing was futile in most scenarios, an intelligent debate had been the only way to ensure that she was certain to be heard.

"Sybil, please." the man sighed, his voice clearly showing his wish to appease her, though with a heavy note of guilt that she knew was connected to what she anticipated he was about to say. "There are fixed points in time that have to happen, people and places and events that need to begin and end in a certain way. This is one of them. I am sorry, Sybil, but there are only a certain number of survivors from the ship, and that number cannot be changed. It would change history."

"But surely we can save someone, Doctor, surely." the brunette cried out, her breathing now penetrated with sobs, though she still tried her very hardest not to allow the tears to fall. Both of the Time Lord's hearts near broke at the sight of the lady's continued attempt to be strong, as it reflected her so well, both as an inquisitive and stubborn child, and having grown into a resilient, feisty young woman. It was the evolution of his companions that had always been one thing that had interested him, even after they had gone. But the Doctor immediately shook his head, to clear it of those thoughts. He would not lose Sybil. Not here, not now.

"We'll see what we can do." he replied to her tearful question, and felt the lie sting in his chest. He knew, of course, that nothing had changed, that the people on the Titanic who had died would still do so, but to see the look of joyful relief on the face of his companion, as opposed to the awful sadness that had rested there, was not an opportunity that he felt he could pass up, and so he had not done so. He couldn't possibly have left her in that way. It was breaking his hearts.

And so they had set off once again, towards the upper decks, where the TARDIS remained parked in a space behind one of the dining rooms. Sybil's intentions were to gather as many people as possible, and to round them up into the ship, to minimise the amount of people who would be taken by the icy waters, simply because their class would not afford them the chance of a seat on a lifeboat. The Doctor, on the other hand, only wished to get his friend away from the danger, as he knew that time could not be changed so dramatically. Titanic was a tragedy, of course, but it would always be that way. Nothing they could do would change that.

"Come on, Doctor!" the brunette exclaimed, as she merged into the crowd, holding her skirt perhaps a little higher than propriety would allow, in an attempt to move as fast as she could do without tripping. "We have to hurry! There are so many people that need our help, and so do James and Patrick!"

Immediately, a wave of guilt came over the Time Lord, as the image came to mind, the list of named passenger deaths on the ship that night, and of the two names that he had read somewhere near the top of it.

James and Patrick Crawley.

A/N: This story is almost done, but not quite. It will probably be done by around Christmas/New Year. Please review!