A/N: If you haven't seen Serenity, be warned that starting with this chapter, there are some spoilers for the movie.
Chapter Twenty-Five
As soon as Rose disappeared through the doorway, the Doctor felt her loss. The tiny bed felt large and empty without her in it. He couldn't believe he'd slept through the night, and without nightmares. Granted, it had been a very long time since he'd made love. Maybe this had been his reaction the last time, and he just couldn't remember it. But he highly doubted it. Sleep without nightmares was a rare and wonderful thing, and rare and wonderful things tended to be directly connected to Rose Tyler.
"I'm ready to show you Miranda."
The Doctor's gaze snapped back to River, who was sitting on top of the narrow desk, legs crossed like a monk.
"Excellent! Right, yes. Let's do that then," he babbled.
It took him a moment to remember that he was naked underneath the simple blanket tucked around his waist, and when he did, he blushed.
"But, um, perhaps I should put on something a little more appropriate. And less sheet-like."
River unfolded herself from the furniture and strode purposefully out the door.
"Meet me in my room," she said as she left.
The Doctor scrambled to pull on his suit as quickly as possible. He didn't want to keep River waiting. She was being so brave, letting him in to see her worst fears. The suspense of that wasn't something he wanted to draw out.
He guessed correctly that the room with the open door was hers, and slipped inside. She was seated on her bed with her back against the wall. She was staring at her bedspread, her expression obscured by her long hair hanging over her face, but he could tell from the tension of her body that the suspense was indeed taking its toll.
Taking care not to startle her, the Doctor slid the door shut behind him and moved to sit beside her. Her hands clutched the blanket, and he gently unfurled her fingers until they released the cloth. He replaced the blanket with his own hands. Finally, she glanced up at him, looking for all the world like a regular teenaged girl; not a genius, not a warrior, just a frightened child.
"I promise not to hurt you," he said softly.
She bit her lip and nodded. Then she gave his hands a reassuring squeeze and slowly lifted them until they rested on her temples. She met his gave, matching his comforting look with one of steely determination. She was ready. Taking a deep breath, he delved once more into her mind.
As before, labyrinthine corridors spread out in every direction. He looked around and spotted River, but there was something different about her. She wasn't the eight-year-old version of herself that he was used to seeing here, but neither was she her normal self. This girl was somewhere in between; a very young teenager, perhaps.
"It feels different this time," the young River told him.
The Doctor squinted at her.
"That's because it is," he said.
He extended his hand, and she took it without comment. They both knew where they were headed this time: to the door with the chains.
It was a long walk. The hallways soared and dipped without warning, sometimes mid-step, as if the walkways themselves were trying to buck their pedestrians off. But the pair pushed forward without a word to each other. They were in this together. They would finish it together.
"There it is," River whispered.
It stood about ten meters ahead of them, still criss-crossed by heavy steel chains. The Doctor could feel the fear radiating from his young companion, and he turned to face her.
"You can stay outside. It might be best," he told her.
She paused, contemplating his advice. In the end, however, she moved past him and towards the door. He followed her until they both stood in front of the metal barrier. Sounds came from the other side, heavily muffled by the thick steel, but distinct nonetheless. Screams. Agonized, primal screams without end. And emotions as well. They emanated from the door as clear as day. Rage, hunger, and madness all mingled together at a frenzied peak, throbbing from behind the door like a tortured heartbeat.
Without warning, the door gave a powerful jolt. The loud metallic clang caused both of them to jump back. The Doctor felt his hearts race, and he knew that they had to do this now, before River's fear magnified any further.
"Open it," he said.
River stared at him with wide eyes. She mutely shook her head, and took another step back.
"You don't have to come in, but it has to be you who opens it."
He hated himself when he saw the fear reflected in her eyes, but he knew it had to be done. After a few seconds, River turned back to the door and placed a trembling hand on the knotted chains. Her fingers squeezed around them, and then, with a feral growl, she pulled. They ripped as if they were made of paper. The Doctor knew that they were only a creation of River's subconscious, but the strength of her determination was no less remarkable. Without pausing, River gripped the thick metal handle and yanked, and the door swung open.
An impossible rush of wind exited the doorway, nearly blowing them both backwards. The forceful torrent of air was accompanied by those terrible screams, amplified now without a metal barrier. The Doctor placed his hands on River's shoulders, ready to usher her back into the hallway, but she stubbornly refused to budge. Without a backward glance, she pushed through the wind and the Doctor followed.
Silence. Complete and total silence filled the space. It was as if they had entered the wrong room. Then a woman appeared. She was a hologram. River's memory wasn't of an event; it was of a recording of an event.
The woman was alone. She had brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was wearing a jumpsuit and a frown.
"These are just a few of the images we've recorded," the woman said. As she spoke, holographic images scrolled in front of her. Close up shots of corpses, of faces rotted away. "And you can see... it isn't what we thought."
Pictures continued to appear and disappear. The woman didn't look at them. She stared straight ahead, grim and weary.
"There's been no war here. And no terraforming event. The environment is stable."
She paused here, her eyes filling with tears. Apology. Regret. Pain.
"It's the Pax. The G-23 Paxilon Hydrochlorate that we added to the air processors. It was supposed to calm the population, weed out aggression."
"Well, it works." She almost smiled, the kind of smile that comes unbidden to your face after tragedy becomes so overwhelming that you might just as soon burst into laughter as tears. But the expression faded immediately.
"The people here stopped fighting. And then they stopped... everything else."
She was awash with grief. She went on in a daze, as if she couldn't believe her own words.
"They stopped going to work. They stopped breeding. Talking. Eating. There's 30 million people here, and they all just let themselves die."
A monstrous roar ripped through the air, and the woman gasped and glanced somewhere off-screen. A furious pounding started up, and it became clear she had barricaded herself in a room to record this message.
"I have to be quick. About a tenth of a percent of the population had the opposite reaction to the Pax. Their aggressor response increased. Beyond madness. They have become..."
She glanced off-screen again. When she spoke again, her voice had a hysterical tinge to it. She fought to keep her face even, but it was clear that she was seconds away from breaking down in sobs.
"Well, they've killed most of us. And not just killed. They've done things..."
She shook her head, trying to block out the memories.
"I won't live to report this, but people have to know. We meant it for the best. To make people safer…"
The sound of screeching metal and pounding increased. The woman looked off to her right again. Then came a loud crash.
"Oh GOD!" she wailed.
She pulled a gun from her pocket and aimed it at the approaching monsters. With a desperate scream, she shot once. But she knew it wasn't enough. They were still coming. They had to consume, to destroy, to kill.
She turned the gun on herself; closed her eyes, pressed the muzzle to her temple, and squeezed the trigger. But before she could let off a round, a creature lunged into frame. There was blood on his face and on his hands, which he closed around her neck as he pulled her to the ground. She let out an agonized shriek.
But the recording didn't stop. Dark shapes, men but not men, deformed and beastly, all blood and teeth and wild eyes, fell on her. They bit and tore and roared in satisfaction when her screams multiplied.
The Doctor snapped out of his horror long enough to see River beside him, pale and quaking with fear.
"That's enough. Let's go," he said.
Without waiting for a response, he grasped her arm and pulled. She stumbled after him, and he didn't stop until they were out of the room.
The scientist's terrible screams continued, on and on, even after they exited into the hallway. The Doctor yanked the door shut and pulled back from River's mind.
They were back on the girl's bed. They stared mutely at one another, shaking. Then River sprung up and ran to the sink in her room. She vomited. The Doctor rose and went to her side, placing a soothing hand on her back as she continued to wretch. He felt like he might throw up himself, but forced himself to remain strong.
"Reavers," River gasped. "They made them."
The Doctor just continued to rub her back, and she wretched again, shuddering. When she had emptied the contents of her stomach, the Doctor cleaned her up. Then he searched for a clean washcloth, and, finding one beside the sink, wet it. He ushered River back to the bed and settled her beneath the covers. Then he gently pressed the cold cloth to her forehead and gripped her hand.
River closed her eyes, relishing the cool feeling of the wet compress, and the Doctor let his mask fall away. He too squeezed his eyes shut, letting all the fear and horror rush over him. He had never encountered reavers, but he knew of them. Reavers were vicious, mindless beasts that roamed the outer reaches of the universe in this era, searching for victims. They were known for their brutality, for their complete lack of humanity. No one quite knew where they came from or what they were, but they were the most feared creatures in this century.
But now he knew exactly where they came from. And if he had his way, so would everybody else. Soon.
For River to have held this terrible secret alone was an unbearable thought. It was no wonder the girl trapped it in the deep recesses of her subconscious. How could anyone see that and want to remember it? It had remained inside her, eating away at her mind, its gnashing teeth threatening her very sanity. But now she could let it go. It wouldn't have to remain locked way much longer.
"You'll be okay," the Doctor said, glancing down tenderly at the girl.
At his words, River's eyes popped open. She seemed bewildered, more so than usual. She stared at the Doctor.
"I know," she said, awed.
The Doctor wasn't sure what to make of this, but then something occurred to him, and he switched gears.
"River, who's Miranda? Was the woman in the video called Miranda?"
River squinted in concentration.
"No," she said. Then she shook her head, frustrated. "I don't remember."
The Doctor smiled kindly.
"That's all right. We'll figure it all out."
"We can fix it," she said, a slight smile tugging at her mouth.
The Doctor shook his head.
"No, but we can make sure it never happens again. I'll gather the crew. We'll tell them together."
River shifted, pushing herself up into a seated position. She pinned him with a very serious look.
"Yes. But Doctor, first you need to tell the Bad Wolf," she intoned.
It came out as a command, and the Doctor froze.
"Tell her what?" he asked.
River pushed aside the covers. The Doctor backed away to allow her to stand.
"You need to tell her the truth. You didn't sing a song that made the Daleks run away. She made their atoms split apart and turn to dust with the wave of her hand," River continued.
His chest tightened.
"She doesn't need to know that," he told her.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"She does. She needs to know that she is the Bad Wolf. And she needs to know about the Immortal Man. The one you left behind to never die. Alone."
The Doctor felt sick to his stomach.
"How can you know all of this?" he asked.
"A door once opened…" she trailed off.
"'May be stepped through in either direction,'" he murmured, remembering Reinette's words from months before.
It made sense, then, that if Reinette could enter his mind, so could River. And River, being far more adept at understanding extrasensory information, would understand how that knowledge could be used within the Time Vortex.
"Jack was wrong. He shouldn't exist. I had to leave him," the Doctor insisted.
River didn't even blink before she responded.
"He wasn't. He does. You didn't," she retorted. "Tell the Bad Wolf. She'll know what to do."
He thought of Jack, alone on Satellite Five, running into the room just in time to see the TARDIS disappear. He'd watched it through the viewing monitor with that all-to-familiar sense of duty overcoming his guilt.
Now the guilt was back in full force. He couldn't imagine telling Rose about Bad Wolf, let alone about Jack. Would she ever forgive him? Could he forgive himself?
River slipped past him. She paused in the doorway and addressed him one final time.
"You cut it out of her brain. She's not whole. Give it back," River said.
She left the Doctor standing alone in her room. He was rooted to the spot for several long moments, unsure of how to process the girl's words. Surely a teenaged human, genius or not, didn't know better than him how to proceed in his relationship with Rose. He took away the Bad Wolf to save her life. The Time Vortex was burning her alive. As for lying to her about what happened… Well, that was the best idea at the time. He had a new face, and a new personality, and he wasn't about to scare her right out of the TARDIS, was he?
The Doctor returned to his room in somewhat of a daze. He plopped down on their bed and stared ahead, going over his actions in his mind.
He was protecting her. It wasn't Rose who destroyed the Daleks and saved his life on Satellite Five. It was the forces of Time, inhabiting her body.
But he knew that wasn't entirely true, because she had called him her Doctor, and it was his name on her lips right before she ended the Time War. Maybe River was right. Maybe he cut apart Rose's brain just like the Academy doctors had done to her.
The sound of the door sliding open startled him, and he felt his hearts stop when Rose came into view. She must have noticed the grim look on his face,
"Doctor? Are you all right? What happened with River?" she asked.
The origin of reavers was the furthest thing from his mind when he answered her.
"Rose, you should sit down," he said, patting the bed.
Rose hesitated.
"Okay, that doesn't sound very reassuring. What's going on?" she asked uneasily.
He couldn't look at her.
"It's time I told you the truth," he said.
He heard her move closer.
"The truth about what?"
He managed to raise his eyes to hers, knowing that River was right. Rose had a right to know.
"About Bad Wolf," he said.
"Where's this coming from? Is River all right?" she asked.
The Doctor nodded.
"She needs our help, but we'll get to that later. I need to show you something. Something about yourself."
She looked nervous, but took a few steps forward until she was standing beside him.
"What?" she asked.
"Sit down," he urged her.
She did, settling herself in front of him. He shifted up until their knees touched, and reached out to take her face in his hands. Her forehead creased with concern, but she didn't flinch away.
"Just relax," he whispered.
He brought his forehead down until it was resting against hers. This wouldn't be the same as it was with River. Rose wasn't telepathic, and he wasn't entering hermind. He was taking her into his.
It wouldn't be reliving every moment in real time. She would catch glimpses of moments at high speed, feeling the emotions as one great rush. But in the end she would understand everything as clearly as if she had been there. Which, of course, she had been.
Gently, he pulled her into his mind.
There he was. The old him, with those big ears and his daft grin and that leather coat. He was resigned to his fate, awaiting death-by-Dalek, when the TARDIS rematerialized behind him.
Back in real time, he felt Rose pull back the tiniest bit, jolted by surprise. Whether it was just at the surprise of being in his memory or shock at seeing the older version of him, he wasn't sure, but he refocused and pulled her back into his mind.
Then she was there, impossibly beautiful and bathed in the brightest light. She stepped forward. The light wasn't just surrounding her; it was coming from her. Her eyes were on fire.
The ship shook in the present. They must have been approaching Verbena. He heard Rose gasp and gave her temples a soothing brush to draw her back in.
Her voice wasn't her own. It was melodic and mechanical all at once.
"I looked into the TARDIS. And the TARDIS looked into me," she told him.
His eyes widened in horror.
The ship rocked in earnest now, breaking through the atmosphere of Verbena, but the Doctor grasped Rose by the shoulders to keep her from breaking the connection.
"I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself. I take the words. I scatter them in time and space. A message to lead myself here."
"Rose, you've got to stop this. You've got to stop this now! You've got the entire Vortex running through your head! You're gonna burn!"
"I want you safe. My Doctor. Protected from the false god."
The rumbling of the ship approached a furious crescendo, but he pushed onward.
"I can see the whole of time and space, every single atom of your existence, and I divide them."
A single Dalek turned to dust.
"Everything must come to dust. All things. Everything dies."
Then, with the wave of her hand she made all of the Daleks in the room split apart into billions of tiny particles that burned away into nothing. The Dalek Emperor remained, declaring his immortality, but Rose brought her arms out to her sides, her eyes burned with power, and every ship in the Dalek fleet went up in flames. The entire race decimated.
He heard her gasp in real time, but he didn't dare open his eyes. She had to see the end. He concentrated very hard so that he could give her the rest uninterrupted.
"You can't control life and death!" he shouted.
She looked down at him.
"But I can. The sun and the moon. The day and night. But why do they hurt?"
Tears streamed down her face. He couldn't look at her.
"The power's gonna kill you and it's my fault!" he moaned.
"I can see everything," she continued, her otherworldly voice trembling. Her words made him look up. "All that is; All that was; All that ever could be."
The Doctor felt a rush of compassion. He sprung to his feet.
"That's what I see," he said softly. "All the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?"
She nearly smiled, but the pain was too much.
"My head..."
"Come here," he said.
"…is killing me."
"I think you need a Doctor."
He grinned, took her hands, and pulled her close. She looked at him like he was salvation, and he was. He brought his lips down to hers in a gentle kiss. As they separated, a stream of golden light appeared between their eyes. The Vortex flowed out of her and into him, and she collapsed in his arms. He lowered her to the ground and expelled the energy back into the TARDIS. He blinked and stumbled backwards.
Serenity hurtled through the last layer of Verbena's atmosphere with a tremendous lurch. The Doctor's hands came apart from Rose's temples with the force of the movement. The ship leveled out to begin its descent. He pulled away and peered at her, trying to discern her reaction. She was staring down at the bed when she spoke.
"You told me… when I woke up in the TARDIS and you started to change… you told me that you'd absorbed all the energy in the Time Vortex, and that was what was killing you."
He saw her lip tremble. Placing his hands over hers, he willed her to understand that she wasn't to blame.
"It killed my body, Rose. Not me."
Her eyes snapped up to his. They were glossy with tears.
"But you'd still be here. The old you. If I hadn't…"
Her voice faded and she swallowed hard. He gave her hands a squeeze.
"Oh, come now. You'll make me jealous. Didn't work out so bad, did it?" he asked, giving her a slight smile.
When she didn't respond, he carefully pulled her to him. She allowed herself to be maneuvered into his lap, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He felt her tears soak through his shirt, and his hands found her back, tracing soothing circles across the fabric of her dress.
For a few minutes, they were both silent. The Doctor knew it was a lot to process, and he wanted to give her time to do so without him interrupting. There was nothing worse than someone telling you that everything was okay when it so obviously wasn't. False comfort was no comfort at all.
The turbulence of the descent slowed to a slight vibration. Finally, he felt Rose shift in his arms. Her hands pressed against his chest and pushed. He released her, sparing her a curious glance, but she was up and moving. She settled herself in the desk chair and when she finally looked at him, there was accusation in her eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.
He leaned back against the wall.
"There was already so much happening. My body was dying. I was changing. I didn't want to make it any worse," he said.
She frowned.
"So you were just protecting me?"
"I was trying," he replied.
She shook her head and sighed. Her eyes traveled the length of the floor, as if she was counting tiles.
"I think you're lying," she murmured after a moment.
Now it was the Doctor's turn to frown.
"I'm not," he said immediately.
Rose looked at him, her expression full of censure.
"I think you were protecting yourself," she charged.
The Doctor stared for a moment, bewildered. Then he rushed to explain, to make her see how wrong she was.
"Rose, you committed genocide. You wiped out the Daleks like you were sweeping crumbs into the dustbin," he said. "I know the pain of that, the guilt. Given the chance to save you from that… how could I not?"
She looked past him, her face screwed up in anguish.
"When you love someone, you have to take it all, the good and the bad. You don't have to approve, but you have to accept it," she said.
Her voice was soft and trembling. He had no idea where this was coming from.
"I did. I do," he said firmly.
Her eyes snapped back to his, and her voice was no longer soft and shaky when she replied.
"You don't, obviously, because you kept it from me!" she snapped. She shook her head again. "I did something that you thought was so awful that it terrified you. So you took it away—poof! Like it never happened."
She stood from the chair and moved even further away from him, back against the opposite wall.
"But I did that, Doctor. And I did it for you. And now that I know it, I'd do it again."
He paled, and she noticed.
"And that's what you wanted to avoid. That it wasn't just a one-off. It's real. It's part of me."
The Doctor jerked back, shocked by her words.
"No. You don't know what you're saying. You wouldn't do it again."
She didn't hesitate.
"I would. In a heartbeat. It was terrible, and knowing that I did it, it scares me, yeah. But I'd do it again to save you," she said. She watched his face fall, and a sad smile crossed her lips. "And that's the problem, isn't it? You hate the part of yourself that did this in the Time War. And then you saw it in me. So you erased it."
"To save your life," he replied, feebly.
"Yeah," she nodded. "And to save yourself."
"How can you think that?" he asked.
She took a few tentative steps toward the bed.
"I love you," she said. He felt some relief at her words, but she wasn't smiling. "I love every part of you, including the part that sometimes has to do impossibly terrible things. Because it's who you are, and you can't help it. And you're a good man despite it all, or maybe because of it. But you can't love that part of me."
"That's not a part of you. You're too good for that. Better than me," he argued.
She shook her head.
"You know that's not really true. Otherwise you would have told me all about the Bad Wolf ages ago, and we would've had a good laugh about the time I was possessed by the Time Vortex and acted like a lunatic."
He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, but he knew that there was more truth to her version of events than his.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said finally.
"What else have you kept from me? What other things have I done that you took away?" she asked, coming to stand before him.
He looked up at her and shook his head.
"It's not like that," he assured her.
She was unmoved.
"What. Else," she repeated.
And he knew he would have to tell her everything.
"Jack," he said.
"What about Jack?" she demanded.
The Doctor let out a breath he'd been holding without realizing it.
"He died on Satellite Five."
Rose stumbled back, but managed to seat herself neatly on the bed beside him instead of falling.
"You told me he was busy rebuilding Earth," she said, sounding more awed than accusatory.
"I know."
"Did I do that? Did I kill him when I killed the Daleks?" she asked.
Her eyes were wide with horror, and he rushed to correct her.
"No, Rose. You brought him back."
"What?" she gasped.
"You brought him back to life. With a wave of your hand," he told her.
She squinted down at her hands, which were clutching the bedspread.
"So, I saved his life," she said slowly.
"No, Rose," the Doctor replied. He sighed and steeled himself for his next statement. "You stole his death."
She turned to face him, impatient with his cryptic words.
"What's that mean?" she asked.
"I'm not positive," the Doctor admitted. "I have a theory."
She nodded.
"Go on, then."
The Doctor looked directly at her.
"He can't die."
She frowned.
"What's that mean? He's immortal?"
He shrugged.
"Maybe."
"Well, is he okay?" she asked, her voice taking on a distressed pitch.
"He's alive," the Doctor said simply.
She pinned him with a frustrated look.
"That's not what I meant. Is he okay?" she clarified.
The Doctor shook his head.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?" she demanded.
"I didn't see him. After," he didn't say after what. She knew. "I brought you straight into the TARDIS and sent her into the Vortex."
"What, you left him?" she blurted out, appalled.
The Doctor fidgeted on the bed, before finally snapping.
"He's wrong, Rose! He shouldn't be."
"But he is!" she shouted. "And you left him! Just like you left Sarah Jane, just like you tried to leave me by sending me away from Satellite Five!"
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
She shook her head. Apology not accepted.
"What am I to you?" she asked.
He felt his stomach plummet. Surely she didn't doubt his feelings for her. Not his Rose.
"Rose, you're everything. You must know that."
"You don't see me as your equal. You can't," she went on, as if he hadn't spoken. "If you did, you wouldn't send me away every time you worry about my safety. And you wouldn't lie to me and steal my memories!"
"Please understand—"
"The one time I acted the most like you, the one time I was your equal, you kept it from me," she continued over him.
"Because you're not my equal, Rose!" he shouted.
The entire ship rocked just then. A shockwave that the Doctor knew meant that they had just entered regular airspace on Verbena. But that seemed unimportant right now, when Rose was looking at him like she didn't recognize him.
"Well, that's it then, isn't it. The truth," she said quietly.
He reached over to take her hands. To his relief, she didn't fight him.
"I didn't mean it like that," he said. "Your body physically cannot handle the type of power that mine can. I mean, even my body couldn't handle the entire Vortex. It's why I regenerated. You just can't be me, Rose. You're not a Time Lord."
"I wasn't trying to be a Time Lord! I was trying to save you!" she said fiercely, daring him to challenge her.
"I know," he said softly. "And I was just trying to save you."
"I know," she echoed. The looked down at their hands. "But you should have told me sooner."
He didn't reply. After a moment, she sighed and pulled her hands away.
"Maybe Inara was right. Maybe you can't let someone have so much of you that you forget who you are."
"Rose, you know who you are," he countered.
"Only because you chose to tell me!" she retorted. "I'm the Bad Wolf! You stole that from me."
"Were! You were the Bad Wolf," he corrected. "And you were going to die if I didn't take the Vortex out of you."
"You didn't just save me. You remolded me. You regenerated me into a safer version of myself. One who didn't remember the Bad Wolf," she accused.
He refused to accept that. He had been saving her life, pure and simple, and he couldn't possibly have thought any further beyond that. So instead of responding to her charge, he went back to an earlier one.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he said.
She sighed.
"Can you promise me you won't do it again?"
He considered her question. What did she mean, exactly? Did he promise he wouldn't save her life again? Alter her memories? Send her away when death was imminent? Could he promise her any of those things? All three?
"Er, sorry to interrupt. Mal says were about to land."
They both turned to see Simon poking his head in the doorway. The Doctor nodded.
"Simon," he called out before the young man could leave.
"Yes, Doctor?" he asked.
"We need to talk about River. I'd like to speak to the whole crew, if possible, but you most of all."
"Is everything all right?" Simon asked.
"I think it will be," the Doctor replied honestly.
"I'll let Mal know. But he wants everyone in the cargo bay immediately," the younger man told him.
He disappeared from view, leaving the Doctor and Rose alone once more.
"I'm sorry," the Doctor said for what felt like the thousandth time.
"I know," Rose said wearily.
"What happens now?" the Doctor asked, dreading her response.
"River needs help?" Rose asked.
The Doctor frowned, confused.
"Yes."
Rose stood abruptly.
"Then we do that first," she announced.
The ship rumbled and shook furiously for a moment, and then all motion stopped. They had landed. Rose reached down to slip on her satin flats. The Doctor was bewildered by the abrupt subject change.
"Rose, we have to—"
"We'll be in the TARDIS within the hour, so whatever's happening here can wait," Rose said firmly. Then her expression softened. The look she gave the Doctor was familiar. Compassion. "She's just a girl. And she needs our help," she said simply.
The Doctor rose from the bed.
"You're right," he said.
They made their way up to the cargo bay to find the rest of the crew already assembled there.
"Okay, listen up," Mal called out. "We're here to get the Doctor, Rose, and Inara back on their way, refuel, and find a new job. In that order. No dallying. Doctor, you can tell us whatever you have to on the way."
"Inara?"
The Doctor saw Rose stare at the Companion in dismay. He wondered why Rose was so upset that Inara was leaving. They'd known all along this was coming. Inara looked away, refusing to meet Rose's gaze, and he saw his companion's shoulders slump in defeat.
"Wash, lower the ramp," Mal ordered his pilot.
Wash jammed his thumb into the button next to the bay doors. The metal creaked and groaned as the drawbridge-style door lowered. Inch by inch it went, and slowly, a figure came into view. First the top of a slick brown ponytail, then a pair of cold eyes, and finally the rest of a pale, sneering face.
It was The Engineer.
End Notes: Dun, dun, DUUUUN! Please tell me what you think! Thank you all so much for sticking with my story :)