Chapter 11
Rose found herself sitting in a field of grass that tickled the backs of her knees. She blinked a couple times against the warm, dry air, wondering if something was wrong with her eyesight because the grass was a muted red. The tall, shining buildings of a nearby city reached for the orange sky. No, they reached for a large iridescent dome that encompassed the city.
Rose was baffled. Had they landed somewhere? She didn't see anything nearby that looked like it could be the TARDIS. How did she get outside the TARDIS? She looked down at herself to see she was still wearing the lilac pyjamas. Even more worrisome, she didn't see the Doctor. She called out for him anyway and nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a familiar voice at her ear.
"Rose," the Doctor said softly. He was sitting next to her in the red grass even though he hadn't been there just a moment earlier, and he was wearing his usual brown pinstriped suit. He looked at her like he couldn't quite believe she was there.
"Where did you come from?" Her heart still pounded from being startled. "And where are we?"
"Gallifrey. More specifically, outside the Capitol."
Rose stared at the Doctor. She didn't know much about his home planet, but she knew it didn't exist anymore. The dreamy expression on his face didn't alleviate her concerns, either. "How did we get here?" she asked gently.
The Doctor didn't seem to notice her question. He took her hand and clasped it between both of his. "I wanted to show it to you."
I must be dreaming, Rose thought. That's the only thing that makes sense. She pinched her thigh hard enough that it hurt. "Ow!" she exclaimed.
"What's wrong?" the Doctor asked, his eyes sharp again.
"I'm not dreaming," she replied with resignation, having no other logical way to explain how she was sitting in the middle of a field, in her pyjamas, on a planet that shouldn't exist.
"No, I am." His voice had gone distant again.
"How am I in your dream?"
He lifted his right hand and wiggled his fingers in front of her face. "Touch telepath."
Something about his explanation didn't seem quite right to Rose, nor did his rather foggy behaviour, but he seemed so certain that she relaxed and rested her head on the Doctor's shoulder. "Tell me about Gallifrey."
When the Doctor awoke, he didn't remember going to bed and was surprised to find Rose halfway sprawled across him. He gently combed his fingers through her blonde hair, trying not to wake her. Knowing Rose, it might be hours before she woke.
He'd dreamt of Gallifrey, and for the first time since the Time War, it wasn't one of burning, destruction, and death. It was the world he remembered before the war, shining and peaceful. Rose had been there with him, even though humans hadn't been allowed on Gallifrey in centuries. They'd sat in a field of soft red grass for hours as he told her about his home planet, but as he tried to remember more, the details became increasingly blurry.
Rose stirred and opened golden brown eyes. She tipped her head back to look up at the Doctor. "Hello," she said groggily.
He absently twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "Hello. Sleep well?" Rose reached her arms up, pulled herself closer, and nodded against his chest. "You were in my dream."
"I know. I was there," Rose said into his rumpled shirt.
"What?"
Rose propped her head on her hand to look at him. "I was there, in your dream. About Gallifrey."
"What?" The Doctor repeated himself in disbelief.
"Does that happen often? You said it had something to do with your telepathy. I wasn't sure if that even worked anymore."
"I'm not as strong a telepath as…" He trailed off, not wanting to mention his other self at the moment. "But that's not how it works. I can't pull you into my dream, though I might still be able to appear in yours."
"So we dreamed the same thing?" Rose asked, confused. "Because it didn't feel like I was dreaming. It felt real."
He considered for a moment. "No, I think you were in my dream." He reached out his hand toward Rose's head. "May I?" She nodded, and the Doctor placed his fingers against her temple. "Anything you don't want me to see, imagine it behind a door." Rose nodded and closed her eyes. With the connection made, he continued, "Now, I want you to try to see inside my mind."
"But I can't," Rose protested.
"I think you can. I think that's why you can communicate with the TARDIS."
"But I've never seen anything inside your head before."
"You haven't tried. And even if you had, you wouldn't get past my shields when I'm awake unless I let you. And I'm letting you, so please just try."
Rose huffed a sigh and concentrated, not really sure how to look inside someone's mind. She thought about reaching out towards the Doctor, tracing a path from where his fingers rested lightly on her temple. Possibly inspired by his mention of doors, she saw a long hallway stretched out before her with a line of doors on either side. Every door was different, from ornately carved wood to riveted metal to smooth glass. Some were open and others closed.
Rose walked down the hallway to a simple dark blue wooden door. She supposed she was drawn to it because it reminded her a bit of the old TARDIS. The door was partly closed, so she reached out and pushed it the rest of the way open. Inside she found a bright white room with a silent gallery of moving images. It would have looked like an art gallery, except she'd yet to see one with pictures that moved.
She looked at the first image on her right and saw Donna Noble in a wedding dress standing in the middle of the TARDIS console room. As she watched, she suddenly found herself inside the TARDIS and heard the ginger woman yelling, accusing the Doctor of kidnapping her. Rose felt a wave of confusion and agitation overlaying a deep sorrow and realized the emotions weren't hers; they were the Doctor's.
She realised this memory must be the first time he met Donna. While she couldn't be sure, Rose thought the sense of sadness might have had something to do with her. She caught sight of her old purple shirt hanging on the railing as the angry bride continued her tirade and recalled that this memory had to take place right after they'd spoken at Bad Wolf Bay. Her heart broke for him, but she was glad for whatever in the universe brought Donna to the TARDIS, even if Donna was loudly and vehemently disagreeing in that moment.
Rose took a step back and the tirade ceased—she was back inside the gallery. She found another image of a panicked-looking brunette woman in an old-fashioned ivory blouse and long skirt trapped inside a clear cylinder. On a closer look, she realized the woman pounding her fists against the unyielding clear tube was Sarah Jane, and she was so young. A hand reached out in front of her—the Doctor's hand, she realised, although it was unfamiliar to her. The hand started to draw something in the dirt on the outside of the cylinder as Sarah Jane sat cross-legged on the ground watching him intently, and Rose felt concern for Sarah mixed with guilt and uncertainty.
Sarah? Rose wondered. She never thought of her as anything but Sarah Jane. She saw that the Doctor had written "relax" on the cylinder, backwards so Sarah Jane could read it. Sarah Jane threw her hands up, and Rose wanted to laugh at the other woman's exasperation. Apparently some things about the Doctor never changed. She stepped back out of the memory, knowing that the Doctor would succeed in rescuing his former companion and probably go on several more adventures together before abandoning her in Aberdeen.
One more, Rose thought, fascinated by the memories. She turned around and caught a flash of long blonde hair. It was her, but something was off. The image of Rose stood in the doorway of the TARDIS backlit by an overwhelming golden glow. In fact, the Rose in the memory appeared to be glowing herself, her normally light brown eyes burning amber. She still wasn't sure what she was seeing, but she felt a whirl of conflicting emotions: dismay, joy, concern.
Then she heard his voice, her first Doctor's voice with his northern accent. "You looked into the Time Vortex, Rose. No one's meant to see that." Suddenly she realized where she was—the Game Station. This golden version of herself was the Bad Wolf, and although most of her memories of that day had returned, she was mesmerised watching herself through the Doctor's eyes.
"I want you safe, my Doctor," she whispered along with the memory of herself, although she was surprised that the voice in the memory didn't sound like her own. It was detached, soft, and echoey. A warm feeling of love enveloped her, but it quickly dissipated into fear and guilt as Rose watched herself start to wane from the immense power of the Time Vortex. She could feel he was terrified for her. The Doctor blamed himself, and it didn't surprise her one bit. He'd sent her away to keep her safe, she'd found a way back to him, and he blamed himself, as always.
Rose started to think she should step away. She knew what happened next, and she didn't want to witness the memory of his regeneration. It was still vividly burned in her own thoughts after all these years. However, she froze when the Doctor pulled the memory Rose close and kissed her. She didn't remember that happening; in fact, she didn't remember anything that happened between destroying the Daleks and waking up just before the Doctor regenerated. A burning sensation started to creep slowly downward from her head as she realised the Doctor was taking the Vortex energy from her, and that energy was going to kill him.
Rose jumped backwards out of the memory, her hands flying to her mouth. The gaps in her memory were now crystal clear. The Doctor sacrificed himself to keep the Vortex from killing her. All she'd wanted to do was to keep him safe, and she'd nearly killed him. She had killed him—her dour, sarcastic, sometimes possessive, leather-wearing, blue-eyed Doctor. The man she had first fallen in love with. The mental connection broke, and Rose choked back a sob when she felt warm arms wrap around her.
"Rose. Rose, it's all right." The Doctor—her part-human Doctor—hugged her tight. She was soaking his shirt with tears. "What happened?"
She forced herself to take a deep breath and opened her eyes but kept her face hidden against his shoulder. "It's my fault," she whispered.
The Doctor was becoming anxious. "Rose, what did you see?"
"I only meant to help. I'm so sorry."
He gently leaned back and tilted her chin up. "Rose."
She closed her eyes again, unable to face him at the moment. "It's my fault you regenerated. You nearly died to save me." Her breath hitched between almost every word.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "So that's what you saw. You said you remembered."
"I guess I didn't remember all of it." She finally looked at him and saw nothing but sympathy and concern in his expression.
"It's not your fault. You saved me and Jack and quite possibly the entire universe. You were in my head; you know I don't blame you. Besides, regeneration worked out all right for me," he said lightly. "Unless you have a thing for big ears." When he decided levity wouldn't work, he continued. "I wouldn't change a thing, Rose. Except maybe Canary Wharf, but then this me wouldn't be here."
Rose narrowed her eyes at him, but at least she wasn't crying anymore.
"That's my girl," he said brightly, knowing he was getting dangerously close to slap territory. "My brilliant, telepathic girl."
Rose blinked. She'd been so distracted by her guilt that she'd forgotten why she'd seen his memories in the first place. "But how?"
"Gift of the Bad Wolf. Side effect of the Time Vortex, I suppose. Daft, me, for not noticing years ago, but you don't seem to project, and I've always had my mental shields up. When did you start hearing the TARDIS?"
"After you regenerated. And not all the time. Just once in awhile I'd get some sort of image or hear a bit of a song. I figured she could always get in my head what with the translation and all."
"And now you can get in my head. Bit of a dodgy place, though. Don't recommend it," he teased. "Come on, then. You go wash up, and I'll make breakfast." He bent over to start putting his trainers on.
Rose hung her legs over the side of the bed next to his, although her feet didn't quite reach the floor. "We don't have any food, unless they've opened a shop in the Vortex."
He grinned cheekily. "You know how I like a little shop. Right, then I'll finish getting the TARDIS ready whilst you get yourself ready. Then we'll get breakfast."
Half an hour later, Rose was feeling much better. Her tear-stained face was now clean, her hair washed, and her fuzzy pyjamas had been exchanged for jeans and a magenta T-shirt. She found the console room apparently empty until she saw slightly dirty white Converse peeking out from beneath the console. The small space was lit blue by the sonic pen. Or was it a screwdriver now?
"Doctor?" she said softly, trying not to startle him. Either it didn't work or he was just jumpy, because she heard a faint thud followed by muffled cursing that she thought was Gallifreyan but the TARDIS refused to translate. "Need a hand?"
The Doctor scrambled out from beneath the console looking more rumpled than usual. His hair was wild and there was a black smudge across his nose that hadn't been there earlier. "Almost done," he said, wiping a hand across his brow and leaving behind another black smudge. "What?"
Rose reached out and tried to use her thumb to remove the black mark on his forehead. "You've got a little, uh…" She realised all she'd managed to do was make the smear larger. "It's not important. How's our patient?"
"Just need to wire up the monitor, and we'll be ready to go." He reached a hand into his jacket pocket. "I've got this for you, too."
She took her mobile from his outstretched hand seeing that the smartphone now said it had signal even in the Vortex. "Jiggery pokery?" she asked with a smile.
"You could say that." He leaned over the monitor, connected three wires to the back of it, and hit a button on the console. The screen flared to life, lines and characters flying across looking very much like it was booting up.
Rose peered at the screen. "Is it in English now? Most of the time I couldn't read the old monitor."
"It was usually in Gallifreyan, which the TARDIS doesn't translate. I suppose she thinks it's necessary for you to understand now, so it's in English."
"I guess that explains why I could never read all those post-it notes you liked to leave everywhere." Rose frowned when the screen suddenly switched from English to the circular characters of Gallifreyan. "Hey! You just said it's necessary."
"Well, I said the TARDIS thinks it's necessary." He realised his error and hastily continued. "And quite right, too. But I think she didn't want you to see her insulting me. Don't think I won't get the mallet," he threatened his ship, leaping away from the console before she could zap him.
"Four days after you left," Rose reminded him as he ran around turning knobs, flipping switches, pulling levers, and pushing buttons.
"We'll be just in time for breakfast with Jackie." He couldn't quite keep from wrinkling his nose in distaste.
Rose slung an arm around his waist and grabbed onto the console with her other hand to prepare for landing. "I know," she teased. "You don't do domestic."
