I really must apologise about the delay on this chapter! June's always terribly busy so I couldn't start working on this until July. Hope you will still be somewhere out there, guys! Big big thanks to my dear friend NoPondInTheForest for being there for me! There'll probably be three more chapters to go. Promise the next update won't take this long!
Dawn had hardly broken when Clara was woken up by the incessant sound of footsteps bouncing up the stairs and all along the corridors. Wondering what all that noise was about, she opened her eyes and fixed them on a purple cushion placed on top of the windowsill. Still, she didn't make any attempt to wake up.
It had been a rollercoaster of a time for her lately. From the moment she found herself trapped in the TARDIS while it was picked up by an army helicopter under the orders of Kate Stewart, events succeeded each other so unbelievably rapidly that at no point had she been allowed to slow down in any sense - let alone a physical one. It was not surprising in the slightest that exhaustion was finally taking its toll.
Following the slamming of a door somewhere, there was a brief moment of silence during which slumber soon took hold of her again. Later that day, she would have sworn she had been sleeping for a couple more hours. And yet, a new surge of feet stomping in all directions and doors slamming everywhere had reawakened her scarcely ten minutes later. As her eyes now shot open, she found there was no purple cushion for them to rest upon. A certain someone's backside happened to be resting upon it, and in common with the feathers stuffed inside the cushion, his body was also covered mostly by purple fabric.
"Doctor?" she said instinctively as she sat up in bed.
"Hello, Clara," said the Doctor, smiling tenderly at her.
"I wanted to wait up for you," she said as she brushed her eyes with the back of her hand, "but I guess I was too tired. Where have you been?"
"Oh, just out there somewhere," he replied as his dreamy innocent eyes wandered about the room.
"Out there somewhere with Anne Boleyn, right?" she added in between yawns. "Well, if Captain Jack hadn't seen you, Queen Elizabeth would definitely kill you now you're back, no fair warning this time."
"Oh well, I guessed she'd be quite cross at first, but I think once Anne's spoken to her, she'll be… Oi! Wait a minute! What's Jack got to do with it?"
"She was worried sick about her mother, Doctor!" she started to explain. "While she was cross-examining nearly everyone at court we realised you'd disappeared too, and that was when Captain Jack showed up and said he'd seen you take Anne Boleyn with you in the TARDIS. Then he suggested you might've taken her back in time so that she could give Henry VIII a punch in the face, and that was when the Queen actually seemed to start to enjoy it!"
"Bet she did! But why would I take her to the court of King Henry, for goodness' sake? That's really stupid! Oh no, we didn't do that. We just went out there for some fun."
"What kind of fun?" Clara asked him, narrowing her eyes as her lips curled slightly up. "Doctor, I know that look."
"What look?" the Doctor asked.
"That look!" she answered, jumping out of bed and pointing a finger at him. "You always have that look on your face after you've done something everyone else will think you shouldn't have done but which you actually felt great doing."
"It was great fun, I'll grant you that," he told her, getting up from the windowsill and sauntering towards her. "Now, Anne Boleyn… Oh Clara, you should've seen her. She's had the time of her life!"
"Still, you won't tell me what you did," she remarked.
"Well, it's not like it can be kept secret for much longer I guess. I took her back to the Tower…"
"To the Tower?" said Clara gaping.
"Yes, to the Tower," he said, then took a moment to put his hands on her shoulders, "and we may accidentally have set some of the prisoners free. Well, not really accidentally. And in fact, not just some, but probably all of them."
He had been quite nonchalant about it. The truth was that from the moment he and Anne Boleyn had started to run like mad along the endless murky corridors of the Tower of London unlocking dungeon after dungeon and taking everyone to their safety, the Doctor had tried and failed to remember ever having done anything as exhilarating.
Clara stared at him in silence for a moment. She was pale and motionless, possibly in a state of shock, and for a moment, even the Doctor started to worry about her. Gradually, however, colour returned to her cheeks and motion to her tense features. She had never told the Doctor about it, but the truth was that the uncertain fates of the men, women, and children she had unknowingly contributed to putting back in the empty dungeons of the Tower of London had not stopped tormenting her for a single second, in spite of Anne Boleyn, the princes in the Tower, and the rescue of that girl who had turned out to be one of the Doctor's companions.
Apparently, a very special one.
Knowing as she did now that the Doctor had put all her worries to an end, she turned around and sat back on the bed. The Doctor walked towards her and knelt down in front of her. No sooner had he done so than she quickly slid from the bed and reached out to wrap her arms around his neck.
"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. "Thank you so much for that!"
She hadn't even noticed, but a warm and voluminous tear had just fallen from her eye.
"Anne Boleyn seemed to be having some trouble coping with everything that's happened to her lately," said the Doctor as he tenderly wrapped his arms around her and let his chin rest on her head. "I just wanted to help her! I believe in second chances, Clara, and since Anne Boleyn is going to have one, it's only fair for all those people in the Tower to have their chance too, regardless of whatever they may have done to end up in there. Which, by the way, given this is Tudor England, might have been something as simple as stealing some food so that their children could eat! Whatever they did, Clara, I just couldn't leave them there. And I knew for a fact that Anne Boleyn would be more than willing to help me set them free."
"Bet she did," said Clara softly against his chest. "I would've loved to help too!"
"I knew you would," said the Doctor, pushing her even closer to him. "And I'm sorry I left in a rush and didn't tell you about my plans, but everything happened so fast!"
"It's okay, Doctor," she whispered, "I'm glad you've done what you've done."
"I thought about you all the time, you know," he added. "I really couldn't wait to come back and tell you right away!"
Clara thought she would forever cherish the words the Doctor had just said, and why she didn't actually revel in them was something that not even she could understand.
"You still haven't seen Rose then?" she surprisingly found herself asking, as if someone else had put that question in her mouth while she was sleeping and, now that she was awake, it had turned out to have a life of its own. Nowhere to turn to now. It was too late. "She woke up soon after you went searching for the other Doctor."
"She did, didn't she?" the Doctor said casually. Then, nodding repeatedly with raised eyebrows, he pulled away slightly, and putting his hands on Clara's shoulders again, he looked at her intently before he went on. "And is he still with her?"
"Is he still with her?" said Clara, raising her eyebrows as she took her arms off his neck. "I bet he is. He went into her room yesterday afternoon, and as far as I know, when I went to bed last night, he still hadn't left!"
"Good," said the Doctor, nodding repeatedly as he got up. "Good, oh that's really very good."
"Don't you want to go and see her too?" Clara asked, getting up as well.
"Oh, I'll go later," he simply answered. "There'll be plenty of time for that."
"Are you sure?" she asked him.
"Yes I am. In any case, it's not like I'm missing it, is it? I'm technically there with her now."
Taking a few steps towards the window, she kept talking as he listened behind her.
"Well, I guess technically you are, but if this works the same way your interference in the Time War did, and somehow I believe it does, then technically this you won't have a clue about what's going on with her unless this you decides to go and see her."
"I don't need to go and see her to know exactly what's going on with her," he said, turning around to look at her. "And even if I didn't know, Sandshoes could give me all the details later. Besides, I'm busy! There are things I need to do and things I need to think about, and I don't think having Sandshoes jabbering by my side all the time is going to help me come up with a plan."
"A plan?" Clara asked surprised as she also turned around to face him. "Doctor, you never come up with any plans. Things just sort of happen with you. And what do you need a plan for now, when it's all over now and everyone's safe?"
"One can never be safe when there are Zygons around, Clara," said the Doctor, in a fruitless attempt to change the subject.
Clara, of course, knew so much better than to fall into his trap.
"Well, if now Zygons are the new menace, luckily enough Captain Jack and the other Doctor happen to be quite handy."
"Yes, but Captain Jack and the other Doctor also happen to be rather busy for the time being, don't you think?"
"Can I ask you just one thing?" Clara cut in, and as the Doctor's eyes widened, she went on. "This is Rose before you actually met her. I know it can't be easy, but is there any way for her to evade her future?"
"What exactly are you trying to ask, Clara?"
"What I'm trying to ask is, can she actually stay and travel with us?"
Not long before, while sweeping the tunnels underneath the city looking for Clara in the company of his past self, the Doctor had felt his extra four hundred or so years of experience to somehow give him the right to patronize the younger Doctor. The thought that Matchstick Man might have taken the right decision the day he knowingly abandoned Rose Tyler in that other universe and in the company of the half-human Doctor had never even crossed his mind!. And so it was that, with the passing of the centuries, he had always assumed things could have turned out differently whenever he relived that moment in his mind. Now, however, when he was really having a chance to actually make things differently, Clara's question had made him remember what he inevitably would have to do soon.
Rose Tyler had to be taken back home. There was no way that she could stay at all.
When Clara found that, quite unprecedentedly, the Doctor literally had no words to answer her question, she felt truly sorry to have asked.
"No," he finally said. And regarding this particular matter, "no" was a word that this version of him had never thought he would say. "There's no way for her to stay. No way at all."
"And when are we taking her home?" Clara unexpectedly asked.
"As soon as she's ready to go," the Doctor answered, looking down.
"And given that she was a…" Clara paused for a minute, unsure what words to use to convey the meaning she wanted to convey. "A really dear friend, and that you've already lost her twice, are you still sure you don't want to spend any more time with her while you still can?"
"Have you been talking to Jack lately, by any chance?" asked the Doctor, a little bit surprised.
"I have," she answered. "And we've had a very interesting conversation, especially when the one that did the talking was him."
"Them I take it he has he told you about…," the Doctor suddenly seemed to hesitate, but after a brief pause, he went on. "He's told you what Torchwood is, hasn't he?"
Clara smiled.
"Yes, I'm afraid he's told me all about Torchwood. Including the battle at Canary Wharf. Which was weird by the way, considering that the other night I teleported to this place, and from the window I could s..."
"I could've told you about the battle at Canary Wharf," the Doctor interrupted, regretting the fact that this new version of him had seldom told his companions much about his past.
"Yeah, I suppose you could've, but you didn't. Neither did you tell me about the role you played the day Planet Earth was stolen or that you were friends with Harriet Jones."
"That was a long time ago, Clara," he said, his tone suddenly becoming darker. "That was centuries ago. Things are very different now. For Sandshoes, on the other hand, it's all still very recent."
"And what's that suppose to mean, Doctor?"
"It means that he is the one that really needs to be inside that room," he said, taking a few steps toward her.
"So he's the one who needs closure, but you don't. Is that it?" she asked with a frown.
"That's what I believe."
There was a long silence during which the Doctor got slightly worried by the way her eyes had just looked into his, as if struggling to understand something that was way beyond her comprehension.
"I'd like to ask you one more question, Doctor," she eventually added, "and once I have, I promise I'll never raise this subject again."
Clara's tone as she said those words made the Doctor a bit anxious. But still, what else could he do? Even if he might not like her question or find it to be uncomfortable, he would have to answer.
He would have loved to say "Geronimo", but he didn't. He simply nodded.
"If you regenerated tomorrow," Clara started, his big round eyes looking past his own eyes and into his very soul, "or the day after tomorrow, or at some point when I'm still alive and haven't been swallowed by a parallel universe, so you can still come and find me, even if many centuries had passed for you, what would you do? Would that new version of you do to me what you're doing to her?"
"Would I do to you what I'm doing to her? Clara? What on earth do you mean?"
"What I mean, Doctor, is… Would you not want to see me? Would you just run away from me like we'd never even met before?"
After their late midnight encounter, the Doctor and Rose had spent the rest of the night in each other's company.
Sitting opposite each other on the windowsill, the Doctor had spent most of that time just telling her stories of the fascinating adventures they had had and the unimaginable places they had been to during the time they spent travelling time and space together, and Rose would listen attentively to each and every single detail in his tales, believing them without reservation. Also for most of that time, the Doctor had kept trying hard to fight the urge to reach out for her and wrap her arms all around her, whilst Rose had kept trying hard to fight the impulse to jump up and sit on his lap and brush his lovely freckled cheek with the back of her fingers.
There was so much they had been preventing themselves from doing all night long that when the rays of the morning sun caressed them through the glass of the gigantic window, their night-long conversation had somehow taken them back to where it all had started - the day Queen Elizabeth I had Rose kidnapped.
"Guess I just couldn't believe it," said Rose, pressing a cushion hard against her chest. "I reckoned it was a bad joke at first, but then days went by and I was still locked up and nobody would come for me… That's when I started to reckon I'd gone bonkers... Blimey! Can you hear that too?" she suddenly asked, narrowing her eyes and looking sideways as they both listened to a stomping sound coming up from down the stairs. "I know this is the British Court, but isn't it a little bit too early for anything to be going on, even 'ere?"
"Maybe last night's party finished later than I thought it would," the Doctor answered in a playful tone.
"Ya sure nothing's wrong?"
"Well, something might I guess… Though I seriously doubt Elizabeth I's having second thoughts about letting you live," said the Doctor, turning his head slightly to the left as he looked at her teasingly, his mouth agape.
"Hey, that's not funny," said Rose, throwing a cushion at him right before she started to laugh.
"Of course it's not funny, it was… It was just a thought!" said the Doctor, taking in his hands the cushion that would otherwise have landed directly on his face and throwing it back at her. Rose diverted its trajectory with a quick toss of her hand and sent it flying towards the other side of the room. "Even if it weren't, Queen Elizabeth wouldn't dare hurt you now her mother's there with her, and most importantly, now I'm here with you."
"So what's happened then? Any ideas?" Rose pressed on, in an attempt to conceal the fact that she was blushing again and wishing she had never got rid of the cushion that was now lying on the floor. She definitely could have used it to hide her face.
"Absolutely none," he answered, shaking his head. "Anyway, whatever it may be, Elizabeth's really clever, so I'm sure she'll sort it out by herself. They'll let us know if they need us in the end, and until they do, Miss Tyler, could you please finish telling me the incredibly gripping story of that young girl who suddenly found herself trapped in the Tower of London?"
"What else d'ya want me to tell ya?" she said, smiling softly at him. "You already know! Especially how it ends."
"Oh I do, and I love it. The whole story is absolutely captivating, and also you're a brilliant storyteller, but... If I had a chance to rewrite it, I think I'd make some slight changes. For instance, I'd probably take that really interesting and heroic time-travelling character with an amazingly prodigious mind so that he'd come to the girl's rescue much earlier than he actually did. That way she wouldn't go to the Tower! Instead, he'd take her to... Oh, I don't know. Somewhere nice! The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, maybe?"
"But that place's just a legend, isn't it?"
"A legend?" asked the Doctor with a frown. "The most astonishing gardens in the whole of human history? Of course they're not a legend, Rose Tyler! They're as real as you and me!"
"So you've been there?" Rose asked.
"Yes, of course I've been there."
"With me?"
The Doctor froze in place.
"Oh," said the Doctor in realisation, looking intently at her as he narrowed his eyes. "Oh, excellent, really excellent question! I'm afraid the answer's no. But why? I don't understand! Why did I never take you there? You loved the apple grass on New Earth so… I should've realised you'd love the Hanging Gardens of Babylon too… There are apple trees everywhere!"
"And can't we go now?" Rose asked. "Before you take me home?"
"Oh," the Doctor whispered, looking a bit downcast all of a sudden. "So you want to go home?"
"No!" Rose shouted, positively startled by the Doctor's remark. "What I meant was, could we go there before you take me home, whenever it is that you're taking me hom?."
"So you didn't mean today…" said the Doctor, his lips curling up as his breath gradually returned.
"No, I definitely don't want to go home today," she answered.
"Good," the Doctor sighed.
"I like it very much 'ere. Since I'm not a prisoner anymore, that is."
"I also like it very much here since you're not a prisoner anymore," the Doctor told her. He slowly leaned forward reaching out for her hand, and his fingertips had done nothing but brush the soft skin of her palm when his long fingers curled around it and squeezed hard, locking his regretful eyes with hers. "Oh Rose, I wish you'd never had to go through that nightmare! If only I could, as I was saying before, rewrite the story of that girl, that incompetent rescuer though otherwise extremely talented time traveller would've been there for her so much earlier!"
"'S okay," she said, squeezing his hand back as she smiled at him sweetly. "The way it's all turned out, I bet that girl wouldn't want her story to change, not one bit, so you won't need to rewrite a single line."
Both the Doctor and Rose blushed for the umpteenth time, but this time none of them seemed to care in the slightest. None of them seemed to make the slightest move either. They remained holding hands and taking the other in silently with such wonderment and blithe that, although for obvious reasons they would never say, each of them was secretly hoping that moment would last.
Much to their regret, their rapture was soon interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door. Only reluctantly did they let go of the one another's hand before the Doctor got up and sauntered towards the door. Upon opening it, he found himself standing face to face in front of the Eleventh Doctor, and an 'oh' escaped his mouth before the older Time Lord pressed his index finger against his lips, inviting his past self to remain silent. The Tenth Doctor understood that gesture as an indication that something important had to have happened, possibly the explanation to all the unexpected early morning noise he and Rose had heard moments before.
His suspicion was suddenly confirmed by the slamming of a door at the end of the corridor. Sir Robert Cecil had just emerged from his chambers and was staggering along on their way to the staircase followed by some royal guards, and the Doctor thought he didn't look very pleased.
"No need to worry about Cecil," the Eleventh Doctor muttered. "It's all been taken care of."
The Tenth Doctor's eyes darted from Cecil to the other Doctor, whose enigmatic remark had just made clear that some degree of secrecy was now mandatory.
"I'll be right back," the younger Time Lord said smiling as he turned to Rose.
"Okay," she answered, grinning in that peculiar way that never failed to make the Doctor's hearts jump.
Turning to his future self again, the Tenth Doctor walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
"How is she?" asked the Eleventh Doctor casually.
"Oh, she's fine," answered the Tenth Doctor as his lips curled up in what might as well have been his zillionth smile.
"Of course she is," his future self added, crossing his arms against his chest. "I always knew she'd be."
"It's been hard though," the Tenth Doctor went on. "I thought it wouldn't be a good idea to tell her absolutely everything about… Oh, you know. Me and… Her. Come to think of it, I've basically spent the night trying to decide what to tell her and what not to tell her."
"And what haven't you told her?" asked the Eleventh Doctor.
"Not much, really...," his past self answered. "Her being missing for a whole year right after we met, or her being there for her dad when he died, or…"
"Or her new parallel dad and her new parallel home," said the older Time Lord.
"Of course I haven't told her that," said the Tenth Doctor. "She won't remember any of this when she gets back, so what's the point in telling her everything?"
"You're right," said the Eleventh Doctor after a brief silence. "We shouldn't upset her, should we?"
"Where have you been, by the way?" the Tenth Doctor suddenly asked him. "'Cause yesterday morning you said you'd be right behind me, and even if this place is massive, I don't think that's the reason why you got here twenty-four hours late."
"Oh, I've been busy," answered the Eleventh Doctor, looking away from his past self. "With Anne Boleyn. I've managed to cheer her up a bit."
"Good for her," said the Tenth Doctor. "And what's the matter with Cecil? Is that why everyone's running around like mad all over the palace?"
"You'll find out soon enough," answered the Eleventh Doctor as the sound of people hurrying around started to become audible again, being soon followed again by the sight of Robert Cecil, this time alone and visibly cross.
When the Tenth Doctor turned around to grab the brass ring and open the door, his future self resumed his talk.
"I gotta go now. I promised Clara I'd take her to the Moon to have some cocktails before this started, and I think she's waited long enough. I'll be back for you two soon."
Upon hearing those words, the Tenth Doctor froze in place, and turning his head around to look at the older Time Lord, he let go of the brass ring.
"Are you not coming in to see Rose?" he asked him.
Both Time Lords went silent for a moment. The younger one could tell that the other was silently trying to make an important decision, but why that decision should be such a difficult one to make, he honestly couldn't tell.
"Do you think I must?" finally asked the Eleventh Doctor. "Clara thinks I must, but I don't think I should."
"Why not?" asked the Tenth Doctor, glowering.
"Well, for starters, because you probably haven't told her about me, Sandshoes. Have you?"
No sooner had he said those words than the Eleventh Doctor took a few decisive steps towards the door, but as he had been expecting, his previous self stepped aside and placed himself right between them.
"No, I haven't," answered the Tenth Doctor, looking down. "It's not like regeneration's something has been easy for her to handle in the past, is it?"
"No," the Eleventh Doctor whispered as his mind briefly travelled back in time. First, it jumped to the moment when Rose Tyler witnessed how the leather jacket version of himself regenerated into the pinstripe one, and then to the moment when said pinstripe version regenerated into himself, and he remembered how, change or no change, Rose hadn't enjoyed any them. Not one bit. "No, I suppose it isn't."
"Still, other than that, there's no reason why you shouldn't see her," said the Tenth Doctor, slowly turning around to grab the brass ring again.
"After you then," said the Eleventh Doctor while thinking that finally there would be no escaping from seeing the woman whose heart, much to his regret, would get broken again very soon.
The two Time Lords entered the room to find that Rose hadn't moved from her place on the windowsill. She was looking out of the window, and she knew the Doctor was back the moment she heard the sound the door made upon closing. Her eyes, however, kept staring at the early morningsun.
"My mum's always had a thing for gold," she said. "I've never really cared much about it, but now that you've told me where it comes from, I wonder why they have to make jewels and stuff with it, you know? As if it wasn't special enough just the way it is, don't ya reckon?"
As she asked that question, Rose turned her head to the door, and that was the moment she realised the Doctor had not got back into the room alone.
"Hello Rose," the newcomer said with a half smile.
"Hello," she said smiling widely. "You must be the one 'e keeps calling Chinny, right?"
"Yes, I am," he answered. And then, slightly alarmed, he asked a question as he slightly panicked. "You don't like my chin?"
Rose snorted.
"What kind of question is that?"
"Oh dear, you really don't like my chin…"
"Ya kiddin' me? I do! I like your chin! Now stop it! I only called you Chinny 'cause the Doctor won't tell me your name."
"That's just because he's probably forgotten," said the Eleventh Doctor. "He does that all the time! Probably 'cause he's much older than he looks."
"What? I haven't forgotten, Chinny!" answered a suddenly very cross and nervous Tenth Doctor. "Rose, this is my friend… Whose name is… His name's… His name is..."
"John," finally said the Eleventh Doctor. "John Smith."
"John Smith! Yes! That's exactly what I was going to say!" added the Tenth Doctor, quickly snapping his fingers and pointing his index at his future self.
"Well, hello John," said Rose softly, taking turns to stare at the Time Lord and his friend. "Thanks for helping save my life!"
"Oh, no need to thank me. Sandshoes here was the one that did all the hard work!"
"He wouldn't have done much if you 'adn't been there for him," she answered with a broad smile.
"It's great to see you smile like this again, Rose," he told her.
"Thanks John! You also come from the future, don't ya?" Rose asked him. "D'you travel with us too?"
"I do," he answered.
"So it's the three of us and Clara, but not that Captain Jack Harkness… Where's Clara by the way? I 'avent seen 'er since yesterday."
"Oh, she just woke up," answered the Eleventh Doctor. "She'll be back here to check on you very soon."
"Not if I go to see her first," she told him. "I've been locked up in rooms for over a month now, and I reckon I could really use some fresh air."
"That's an excellent idea," said the Tenth Doctor, grinning wildly at her.
"Thing is," started the Eleventh Doctor, "there's someone else who'll soon be up here to see you too."
"Who?" Rose asked. "Who is it?"
"A certain lady who's pretty much alive and kicking again, all thanks to you."
"It's okay, Chinny," said the Tenth Doctor. "She already knows about her."
"It's Anne Boleyn," the Eleventh Doctor finally told her.
"Anne Boleyn?" Rose asked, her eyes widening.
"Yes," he replied, nodding softly. "Things haven't been easy for her lately, but now that the storm clouds have passed, I think she just wants to say thank you to very person she owes her life to. She's probably talking to her mother now, but I can go find her if you want me to."
"Okay!" she answered, her eyes sparkling.
"Okay then," said the Eleventh Doctor. "I'll be right back."
And with those words, he turned on his heel and rushed out of the room, leaving Rose and the Tenth Doctor alone again.
"Did ya hear that?" Rose said to the Doctor excitedly as her eyes danced in his direction. "Anne Boleyn's coming to see me 'cause she wants to say thanks!"
"It would seem so, yes," muttered the Doctor with a discreet smile. And then, beaming at her, he went on. "And knowing you the way I do, Rose Tyler, I daresay you're tremendously excited about it…"
"Am I excited about it? How else could I be? Anne Boleyn's coming to see me!"
And right after she shouted those word, they jumped into each other's arms and started to laugh wildly and happily, the way little children do.
On the other side of the door, the Eleventh Doctor was looking down from one of the large windows in the long and majestic corridor.
He had left Rose's room with the intention of rushing out to find Anne Boleyn, but he had merely taken a few steps ahead when, of a sudden, his expression went dark and he abruptly came to a halt.
The thought was there once again, anchored to his very soul, and it would give him no peace of mind. Still, he kept running from it. After everything they had done, how could he not? He simply refused to accept the idea of not being able to keep Rose Tyler with him, whatever the version of him was, and he had never had any better reason to do something in his stupidly long life before. If Rose were to stay with him, then it would have been impossible for him to ever have met her. The incarnation of him that had had blue eyes, noticeable ears and a northern accent would never have found her in that shop warehouse in twenty-first century London, let alone ask her to travel with him.
He hadn't even noticed, but his mind had frantically started to consider different scenarios, but none of them turned out to bring any good. In the end, his thoughts all led to the same conclusion, and that conclusion was that there was nothing to be done. Nothing at all.
And then a silly but plausible idea suddenly sparked in his brain. "Or maybe there is…," he thought. It was simple and ridiculous, and definitely not enough, but what if…
What if he just went and did it?
From the window he could see the TARDIS, which was now parked right outside Whitehall Palace, and after spending a few instants devoted to studying the silver lining in his new and sudden thoughts, as soon as he made the decision, he walked away from the window and rushed along the corridor in the direction of the staircase and headed to the lower floor.
He would go find Anne Boleyn. Then he would introduce her to Rose, and after leaving them both with Sandshoes, he would finally take Clara to have those cocktails on the moon.
And then, he wouldn't be coming back.
Or at least, not too soon.
