This is a fiction I wrote while at work in my notebook, and I've finally managed to get it typed up and out there into this wonderful world. It's my first Eleven/Rose but I can't get over how touching a reunion it would have been for them if they had been given the chance. Anyway this is my first attempt. Leave a review at the end if you'd like. (I'd like one) x
My Way Back to You
The Doctor fiddled with –he looked down at what was in his hands- whatever it was; some sort of rubix-cube looking gizmo? Oh well. With a sigh he set it down on the console.
He was going crazy. He needed something to do; Amy and Rory were on one of their sabbaticals and the Time Lord was finding himself at a loss for what to do. The universe wasn't as fun with no one to share it with. With another heavy sigh he leaned back against the TARDIS's console.
He must have lent on something because the next second he was lurched forward by a sudden violent jolt. The engines whirred and shook as the TARDIS took matters into her own hands (metaphorically speaking) and whisked them off to lord knows where –or when. Another massive quake and they landed. The TARDIS practically purred with some form of satisfaction. She reached out and gave him a mental nudge to go out into the unknown. Funny, it was almost like she knew something he didn't? With only a slight feeling of trepidation, The Doctor bounded through the doors into- London? He breathed a great whiff of air, nostrils flaring; 1993 London if he knew anything (which he did)
Why had the TARDIS brought him here? It was a council estate; school kids were walking home, some hand in hand with their mums or dads, others alone or in small groups. The Doctor watched as they came past in waves none of them paying any attention to the professor looking man standing by a big blue box. If there was something the Time Lord liked more than nifty gadgets it was people! So he settled in for a good ten minutes of (his favourite past-time) people watching. Leaning against the Police Public Call Box with his arms folded, The Doctor watched with a blessed out expression, happily content to watch the hustle and bustle go by. He'd not taken not of exactly where he was, too busy was he with his watching.
"ROSE DON'T RUN!"
And suddenly the world went very still and cold. The Doctor turned to see a much younger Jackie Tyler chasing after a flurry of blonde hair and red chequered school dress, a little girl about seven years old, came hurtling around the corner gleefully- to crash right into his legs.
"Rose- oh my god! Are you okay? Sorry bout that she don't half look where she's going! Rose what have I told you?"
The Doctor looked, dazed, down at the girl as her mother fretted over him. And somehow in the whirl-wind that was Jackie Tyler (he'd forgot what this felt like), he was corralled into the flat and a cup of tea and a try of Jaffa cakes shoved into his hands. He sat on the little pink sofa and blinked at the mother and daughter pair as his ear was talked off in a fashion he had missed dearly (how could he have let himself forget this?).
"And so I says to them that it's not Rose's fault that she finds it hard to keep up with the other kids!"
He nods along sipping the warm brew and dunking a Jaffa cake- maybe a few too many times.
"And I said to Sharron how the hell am I able to afford private lessons? I can hardly pay for her gymnastics!"
Without even thinking The Doctor opened his mouth and said.
"The school sent me to offer your daughter private tutoring," he looked just as startled as Jackie did.
"Really? How much do you cost? Oh mu god, that sounds weird, are you a teacher?"
"Doctor," The Doctor quickly cut in "I work at the university, I lecture there here are my credentials!" he fished out his psychic paper and handed it to her.
"Oh," Jackie looked very impressed by what she saw and handed the paper back. "so how much?"
"Huh?"
"How much for an hour?"
"oh," thinking quickly as possible The Doctor said "the School pays for all that, I just go where they send me, I'm a supply teacher, only part time at the university, things like this help pay the bills and I like meeting all the new young minds of the generation," he smiled at Rose, she grinned back up at him and offered him another Jaffa cake (his had got too soggy and dissolved into his tea) he looked back up at Jackie, "though all the moving from one place to another means I have little time actually at home, so a cuppa is fantastic!" he finally stopped for air, feeling a former life filtering through his new one with past characteristics. Rose left to refill the tray of Jaffa cakes (gosh she could put food away) He waited for a response. Jackie blinked then beamed at him.
"Really, the school's paying for all this?" he nodded "Rose, guess what!" she dashed out to get Rose from the kitchen, "The Doctor here's going to help you with your homework!"
Rose smiled shyly at him as she set (the now full) try of Jaffa cakes down and a part of his hearts he'd not felt for a long time warmed and swelled. He smiled back. He could do this, he only had to make sure not to meddle with her timeline and it would be fine (he hoped).
"Thanks," Rose said quietly, fidgeting and shifting her eyes up at him as he inelegantly stuffed a whole Jaffa cake in his mouth.
"So is it once a week you'll be here? What night? I must tell you that on Mondays and Fridays she has her gym-"
"I can do twice a week, and Tuesdays and Thursdays are fine," The Doctor interrupted Jackie.
"Would you like that sweetie?"
Rose nodded her toothy grin growing bigger and she stuck her tongue between her teeth. The Doctor's chest squeezed (what had he got himself into?)
He closed the doors behind him as he entered the TARDIS and leaned back on them. The ship hummed comfortingly giving off a soft glow. His lower lip was quivering and before he could fight them back tears were rolling down his cheeks. He slip down the doors and slumped to the floor. The hurt, all the pain from so many years ago came back (it never left) and he wept.
"Don't you think The Doctor has been acting strange?"
"The Doctor? Strange? Never!" Rory spoke to his wife in mock horror- she smacked him.
"oi," Amy warned, "I don't know, he seems more..." she struggled for the word.
"Messy?" Rory supplied lifting a book off the floor "key stage one English and spelling?" he waved the textbook in the air "what does he even need it for?"
"I don't know, ah ha! Punctual!"
"What?"
"The Doctor has been arriving on time for things!"
"Really? Maybe he's got better at keeping time?"
"I don't think it's just that," Amy looked at the book in Rory's hand. She snatched it from him and marched off in search of the elusive alien. She found him buried under a pile of papers in the library. He had his reading glasses on and was scribbling on a sheet with a red pen, making quick annotations in the margins. "Doctor!" Amy called. The Time Lord looked up over the rims of his spectacles "what is this?" she waved the primary textbook in the air with its teddy bear cover.
"AH!" he jumped up from his chair and rushed over, sending a loose pile of papers flying in his haste (adding to the mass already on the floor). Amy held the book out of his reach.
"Whose is it?" she asked.
"Mine," he went to snatch it.
"Really?" she cocked a brow and moved it further away.
"Alright, it's a friend of mine's. I'm helping them with something." The Doctor was looking shifty, Amy didn't like shifty. Amy turned away from him shielding the book with her body and read the inside page. "Rose Tyler, year three English homework,"
He made a sudden lunge and got hold of the book and darted back behind the safety of his desk.
"Doctor?" Amy was worried now.
"What?" he avoided eye contact.
"Who is Rose Tyler?" Amy crossed her arms.
"A friend," he replied quietly.
"You're friends with an eight-year-old girl?" Rory asked.
"I was friends with Amy when she was seven," he defended.
"True, but who is she?" Amy cut in.
"A friend and I'm helping her with her homework,"
"Cute can we meet her?" Amy moved forward.
"NO!" he snapped making his companions jump.
"Why not?" Amy narrowed her eyes.
"Because I don't want her to get dragged into this. She can't- she doesn't know who I am- to her I'm just a tutor and a friend and that's the way it will stay." He glared at them both. Amy was gearing up to question further but Rory saw something in The Doctor's eyes that made him take pity on the Time Lord.
"Amy," he took his wife's hand and dragged her out.
Heaving a sigh, The Doctor slouched down into his chair. Thank goodness for that. Now what on earth was this question after?
Christmas 1996
Rose leaped piled of roast potatoes onto her plate then passed the serving spoon to him.
"Thanks," he said. What had been a simple cuppa after (or during) his lessons with Rose, had soon turned into dinner here and there until he was integrated fully into a once a week meal with the little family. Jackie was determined to put meat on his bones, 'you're too thin!' she'd say. Though- looking over at her mountain of food it was a wonder how Rose was so thin herself.
"Rose pass mummy the gravy would you?"
"Yep," she popped the p and reached over. The Doctor noticed a mark on her arm.
"What's that?" he tapped her arm lightly on the bruise with his index finger. She quickly drew her arm away and mumbled that it was nothing. The Doctor frowned but didn't press further. Jackie locked eyes with him over the table- communicating something silently with him.
"Can you help me with the mint sauce in the kitchen?" Jackie rose. He got up and followed her through. "She won't tell me who's doing it but some little butt is pushing my daughter around, at school, she's being bullied." She fumed lividly, but quietly to him.
"Oh," he looked seriously at the back of Rose's messy head through the kitchen window. He had the urge to smooth the tangles down.
"I was thinking that maybe you could talk to her? Maybe get her to open up? She looks up to you," Jackie said hopefully.
"Me?" he was baffled, "I'll try but-"
"When you're not here it's The Doctor this, Mr. Smith that!"
"Oh," gosh he had a very small vocabulary these days.
Later that evening after the presents had been opened and his festive holiday tie (courtesy of Rose) was flashing merrily away he settled down next to the little girl as she poured over a new book.
"Rose?"
"Hmm?" she looked up at him finger marking a word she didn't know "What does this say?"
"Avalanche," he read for her "Rose? Has someone been mean to you at school?" She paused for a moment before nodding "Who?" he slouched down so he was at her eye-level. When she didn't answer he gave her shoulder a playful nudge. "Come on," he smiled and winked "you can tell me."
"Jimmy Stone,"
1998
The Doctor was livid; Jackie's new boyfriend was the worst scum of the universe he'd ever met and he was going to make him regret the day he'd ever raised a hand to the Tyler women. At first Jackie had played the injuries off as accidents (too much stuff in the flat). Then today (this day) while The Doctor was outside the Powell Estate parking the TARDIS behind some bins when he heard the shouting.
He dashed up the flights of stairs two-at-time and ran towards the Tyler residence (where the shouting was coming from the small flat). He tried the door, but it was locked, he banged a fist on it but no one came. There was a long crash and a shriek of terror. Fumbling quickly with his pockets he took out his sonic- aimed it at the door and opened it just in time to witness twelve-year-old Rose getting backhanded across the cheek hard enough for her to hit her head against the wall.
Many emotions froze him to the spot for the fraction of a second it took him to react; anger, hate, fear, terror, horror and pure unrivaled rage. But it was the trickle of blood down the side of Rose's temple that made him finally latch onto this rage and spur him into action. He sprang forth grabbed the abomination of a man by the shoulder before he could lay hands on Jackie and punched him with the wrath of a twelve-hundred-year old Time Lord.
The Doctor carried Rose in his arms (she was so small). Jackie had locked her boyfriend in the flat and called the police as The Doctor rushed Rose to the hospital; saying he would be quicker than an ambulance and she needed to wait to give a statement once the police arrived. He ran with the little girl in his arms. The TARDIS opened her doors for him as he approached at speed and hurtled to the console . He really hoped that Rose wouldn't remember any of this.
"What- oh my god!" And he'd forgotten about Amy and Rory. Rory rushed over and instantly started first aid. "Doctor what happened?" Rory needed to know what type of injury he was dealing with. He could se the beginning of a black eye but The Doctor had blood on his shirt front.
"she was hit across the face and hit her head on the wall! Left side!"
Amy stood back and watched The Doctor whirl around the TARDIS console in a frenzy. The TARDIS rocked and landed again. The Time Lord scooped Rose up once more and ran out into a hospital corridor, Rory and Amy hot on his heels. Just in time- The Doctor had got there just in time. He now sat at the bedside in one of the most uncomfortable chairs in existence but he didn't notice. His hand held the smaller one of Rose (it still felt right to hold). Rose had a bandage wrapped around her head.
The Doctor's two companions waited outside the doorway as their Doctor stared with such an expression as to make them feel very out of place. It was so broken and longing. All for this small girl in the hospital bed?
"Do you think that's Rose?" Amy asked her husband in hushed tones. He didn't have a chance to reply as a blonde woman in her early thirties came barging past them and into the room. The Doctor jumped up from his seat and went to the woman opening his arms as she flung herself at him and sobbed into his shoulder. A moment passed before he guided her to take a seat and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before moving away to allow (what was obviously) mother and daughter a moment alone.
"You two go back to the TARDIS, I have to stay and give the police my statement." He kept his head bowed low, shielding his eyes with his long floppy fringe.
"Doctor?"
"Now Amy, go," he left no room for argument but added softly "please."
Rory as he usually did, too his wife's had and led the way back to the blue box waiting for them. Once they'd turned the corner on the hallway The Doctor poked his head back into the room. Rose was a wake now and Jackie was holding her and blubbering into her lap. Rose's eyes looked up and warmed with an emotion that should have been too big for a girl of twelve to feel when she saw him standing vigil. His stomach turned and his hearts throbbed, he'd seen that look before (in an older face). Quite right to. He thought and smiled back at her.
2000
He should stop visiting now, he knew it was time but it hurt to part again. It was Rose's fourteenth birthday and he was invited. He had a silly paper party hat (which he loved) wearing it like a king a crown as he posed for a picture with his beautiful Rose lifted up in his arms, laughing and grinning like maniacs. They were all in the park Rose's friends (Micky!) dashed by in fits of joyous shouts, while the parents talked and ate their cake. Rose and Jackie (the angels) had provided him with fish fingers and custard, which he was happily dipping into. He'd treasure this moment. His room in the TARDIS was already littered with drawings of stick figures holding hands under rainbows with bright suns shining in the background.
He'd already had the painful conversation with Jackie and Rose, they knew he was leaving, they thought it was because the school had got rid of his job due to cutbacks, but the truth of it was that in five short years a man in a brown coat was going to appear in a shadowy corner and ask a young woman what year it was, then a man in a leather jacket was going to take a that young woman by the hand and tell her to run (if it was possible to envy yourself then The Doctor did).
That night after the party inside the TARDIS was the hardest night in a long, long time. He'd said goodbye-again- but he had told her he'd see her again (the truth). That didn't make it any easier though, that was the third time he'd bid that amazing person (whom he owed so much) farewell. Taking a deep breath The Doctor walked up to the console . The TARDIS reached out and caressed his mind gently. She was sad too.
2013
The Doctor leaned over the console , breathing heavily. These nights would come and leave him drained; when his emotions would drown him out and swallow him. Sorrow, guilt, loneliness; he would feel so, so alone, even surrounded by all of his friends (his new friends).
Remembering past friends wrecked his body with a new wave of nausea, he fell to his knees as the sobbing grew worse. He could repress this most of the time, but when he was alone at night he'd wallow. Tonight was bad though as howling, whooping sobs made it almost impossible to breathe. They wouldn't happen often, nights like these. In this face Amy and Rory had found him three times in the inconsolable able state. River found him once... he told them nothing. Pushing them away. The only one yet to find him like this was Clara... (until now). He looked up as the footsteps got closer.
"Doctor?" her voice was soft, caring. "What's wrong?"
Everything was wrong! He wanted to scream, yell and tear a hole in the fabric of reality to get the people back that he'd lost forever (one person). He said nothing, struggled to stand and walked away into the TARDIS. He needed to be alone.
Clara watched The Doctor disappear into the halls. She nearly went after him but the door closed, the ship was preventing her from following.
"What's wrong with him?" she asked. The monitor on the console lit up. Gallifreyan writing danced across the screen. Going over to it Clara waited for the next sign from the TARDIS. The screen lit up and a word in English appeared.
Grieving
"Who is he grieving?"
Friends
Frowning Clara leaned on the console. "the ponds?"
No
Confused, Clara wanted answers but she didn't want to go digging into The Doctor's past (it was his business). But he was so upset...
"can you tell me?" she asked.
No
"can you show me?"
Yes
Images started to cycle through on loop. One after another: a handsome man in an old navy blue military coat; a middle aged ginger woman; a young black woman and man in matching black jumpsuits with guns on their hips; then the screen stopped moving through them and a new image appeared. A woman with shoulder length blonde hair, and a million watt grin that was infectious. Clara smiled.
The Doctor sat in the chair surrounded by bits of paper, a few Maths and English textbooks, children's drawings all around him. The crying had subsided now he was in the self destructive faze. The Ponds had known all about his encounter and time teaching a little girl with blonde hair. Clara's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Who was she?" she held up a printed photo. Anger surged through him, he leapt across the room, snatching the photo.
"Where did you get this?" he growled. Taken aback Clara stared at him "Where!" he repeated stalking away tucking the picture into his pocket. She didn't miss the way his hand lingered on the pocket protectively.
"The TARDIS," she answered.
His eyes glanced up at the ceiling, betrayed.
"Who was she?"
"An old friend,"
"She was more than that, wasn't she?"
He didn't respond, instead sinking down amongst the papers she now saw. He muttered under his breath. Walking over to him she leant against the desk. Fresh tears were gathering in The Doctor's eyes. He blinked them away.
"Her name was Rose, Rose Tyler," his voice croaked.
"What happened?" Clara wanted so badly to comfort him but knew that he was not a hugger. She also feared that if she did anything more that he would fall apart. She'd never seen someone look so utterly shattered.
"I left her in another dimension, so she could live a happy life," he smiled grimly "three-hundred years ago."
"I'm sorry,"
He told her about how he helped her as she was growing up, her homework, everything, it just came pouring out of him until he said that last word and felt empty.
"So you can't see her?" Clara asked at last once he'd finished.
"No," he wiped moisture from under his eyes and sighed "paradoxes."
"Did you love her?" Clara watched as his body froze and he breathing- yes, he did.
"Still do," his hurt, broken eyes bored into hers.
"Oh Doctor," she sighed "is there anything I can do?" The Time Lord shook his head, floppy brown hair covering his eyes.
"No, there's nothing to be done Clara," a wan smile stretched his lips, "she'll be long happy and dead now."
"hate to point out the obvious, but this is a time machine..?" she waited for him to raise his head. When he didn't, only sighing and sagging further down onto the floor littered with paper. "Doctor?" he voice implored but the reaction was violent. The Doctor jumped to his feet and started spitting venom.
"NO THERE IS NO WAY TO GET BACK! To travel between dimensions rips holes in the fabric of reality! Everything would collapse!"
Clara had never heard him yell like that before, it was frightening. The sheer anger rolling off him was tangible in the air. The anger of a Time Lord... He'd kicked over the desk and a child's drawing floated to the floor. The Doctor's shoulders heaved with each breath as she stiffly stalked out of the library.
Clara sat helplessly surrounded by the ghost of The Doctor's past. She fingered the child's drawing. Clara had to do something. The loss of this woman had been festering for a long time it seemed, a very long time.
2013 elsewhere
Rose was walking the halls of the TARDIS, as she did in many of her dreams. Funny thing was that she never remembered her dreams when she was awake. However at night when she closed her eyes all of the memories came back. A golden glow shimmered under her skin and in her eyes. In the dream world she was the Bad Wolf. She had power in this place. Go wherever she wished with a thought. There was a time an old man called The Doctor (his past life) needed help, he had been struggling; so she helped him. She did wonder why it was that the two other Doctors (hers and a new one) couldn't see her? So she went by Bad Wolf. It was only a dream so it didn't matter really though did it? Until the dream ended and she woke up... and remembered all of it, it was real. She'd really seen The Doctor! (or rather Doctors).
Tonight Rose wandered the halls of the TARDIS trying to find someone. She came to the console room but it was empty, but she swore she could feel people there. Closing her eyes, her mind reached out opening her ears to all of the sounds. The heart of the TARDIS sang very quietly and distantly. Walking over with her eyes still closed Rose felt her way to the dashboard of the console , touched the keys and typed a message willing it with all of her might into existence. Two words through time and space.
BAD WOLF
Clara wandered into the console room about to pass the octagonal centre console e towards the swimming pool (now located in the kitchen) the monitor screen bleeped and flashed. She paused, going over to it reading the message. This would happen sometimes, either an S.O.S from a far off galaxy or something, usually pertaining to a new adventure. The screen fuzzed only showing pixelated static-grey dots as it shimmered. There did seem to be words but they were too obscured to read.
"Doctor!" she called into the time machine. He was probably tinkering.
"What?" his voice carried over carefree and light. It had been weeks since she'd found him crying.
"Come see this. Think it's some kind of message?" she waved at the screen. The Time Lord bounded over, squinting at the monitor. He fiddled with a few keys and the transmission paused. After a silent few moments Clara was about to ask a question when The Doctor jerked away as though burned, shoving himself away and pressing back against the metal railings of the TARDIS's all grey metal interior. His breathing was laboured, eyes wide in horror, shock- so many emotions it was hard to tell.
"What is it?" she still couldn't read the message. "Doctor, what is it!"
He lurched back to the console e furiously slamming leavers and button.
"Doctor talk to me!" Clara all but yelled at him. He froze looking at the screen again. Then his wide stare turned to her.
"It's the end of the universe," he muttered.
"What does it say?" Clara begged. The Doctor did something totally unexpected; he grinned. He'd lost his mind. That was the only explanation for the sudden euphoric manic energy.
"Bad Wolf," he whispered the yelled triumphantly "BAD WOLF!"
Rose woke in her bed more tired than when she'd fallen in it, with a headache so think it was like bells ringing. With a groan she rolled out of her empty bed. The bedside table held a single photo; her and her husband. John Smith died fifty years ago of natural causes. Old age. On the wall there was a family photo hung by the mirror. Rose glared at her youthful face in the reflection. Not a day older than nineteen. Her nails still grew and her hair (now a softer honey blonde) messy from sleep did too. She stuck her tongue out at her reflection. The photo on the wall depicted the whole Tyler family. Similar images hung around the house. Every one showing a growing family, save for one member that never changed. Rose remained the same while her family grew old, grew larger, extending to grand kids, nieces and nephews. They were all grown up now. Her parents dead; her little brother a man now looking like he was the older sibling. Rose had moved away a long time ago, into a cabin in Norway. She'd stopped working for Torchwood; they'd noticed her not aging, so she left before they could ask her anymore prying questions.
The headache was worse than usual. After downing a butt-load of painkillers (not like she would die from it) the throbbing only grew worse. Maybe a bit of cold Norwegian fresh air would help? The wooden deck outside her front door had a single chair and table. With a cup of herbal tea (she'd got into it after John accidentally ordered a crate of it) she sat smiling at the memory. She sagged down in the chair looking out over the fjord; nursing the pain in her head as well as the pleasantly hot mug in her hands. The landscape was beautiful in this country and if she was honest she'd moved here out of sentimentality. Sue her.
When it was obvious that the pain wasn't going to leave her alone, Rose closed her eyes and willed her body to shut down and recover. She could sometimes do it, a self induced meditative state to heal her body. The world melted away and after a few moments of darkness and peace the console the room of the TARDIS formed around her. Voices echoed in the empty space, raised and urgent.
"What does it mean!"
"BAD WOLF!"
The brown of her eyes changed to gold; ghostly figures started dashing around the console. The words were garbled now; only having power for one sense at a time it would seem. The Doctor and his new companion rushed around the room. She was very confused (the brown haired woman) by her expression. The Doctor was in some form of exuberant, giddy, frame of mind. Rose smiled; no matter how much his face changed, he was still the same man; getting excited over new finds. She wondered what there could possibly be that would be new for him to find? Maybe he just pretended, to put on a show for his friends that were always so new to the wonder.
Rose remembered that feeling and she smiled. The Doctor suddenly stopped running around the console. The image hadn't frozen, he had. With a frown he turned to face her. He couldn't see her though it was obvious by the way he looked right through her. She was a ghost.
Clara watched The Doctor stare intensely into the air by the door of the TARDIS. There was nothing there, but the hair on the back of her neck rose in gooseflesh. He walked forward, a feeling in his gut exciting his hearts to beat faster and faster as he took steps closer and closer. Towards the air where it shimmered; a heat haze, nothing more. Though getting closer he felt the tangible power singing through his veins. Reaching out a hand slowly he touched the air. It vanished. Knees buckled and he fell to the floor staring at nothing as Clara tried to shake him out of his stupor. But the song of the Time Vortex rang in his ears, drowning out everything else. It had been a many years since he had heard that music. He cried, the silent tears ran rivers down his cheeks. His eyes closed in reverence. When he opened his eyes once more there remained only a faint humming in his head, once his eyes opened there was a message written on the white paint of the TARDIS door. BAD WOLF. As though it had been burned into the wood. Oh how wonderful, how... fantastic! Brilliant! The Doctor leapt to his feet with renewed vigour, a new lease of life he'd not felt on centuries!
Rose gasped, jolting out of her chair, spilling her still hot cup of tea . cursing and jumping up, waving her hands to cool them after splashing the hot liquid all over them; the blistered skin already starting to heal. The red hot burning sensation of where The Doctor's hand had touched her chest, a brand screaming at her only one thing; she could go back!
Rose lay in bed ready for her next voyage into the dream world. The familiar walls of the TARIDS grew up around her, forming into being from smoke. It was a room, a bedroom; though the bed looked as though it was hardly used for sleeping in. There was an eclectic mish-mash of items found and picked up from many journeys. She had made many trips, growing stronger every time, spending an agonizing time dedicated to a new sense. Formally only able to use the one, she could now engage two at once. Sight and sound; today she would try to use touch as well. There was a shower running in the en suite. She could feel the steam through the air. She wandered into the bathroom. The shower cubical was fogged up; only the shadow of a male form could be seen through the class. There was a mirror on the wall also fogged by the moisture in the room. It was too much for her to resist, the next moment she was testing the limits of her new sense of touch. She'd been able to run her hands over the trinkets in the bedroom. Concentrating h=she lifted a finger to the glass of the mirror and started tracing the words out.
The Doctor stepped out of the shower (now free of Slitheen mucus) and enjoying the warm steam in his private en suite. At first he attributed the gooseflesh to his changing stepping out of the shower into the cooler air of the more open space. Then he looked at the mirror and saw the words tracing themselves into the fogged glass. Hello, Bad Wolf.
"Hello Rose," he managed to say. Rose spun around but realized that she was still invisible to him by the unfocused wandering of his green eyes. She drew a circle around the message on the mirror. "Can you hear me?" His voice cracked, hoping for an answer he was afraid to hear. There wasn't enough room left on the mirror for more to be written so reaching out she pressed a hand to his cheek. The Doctor gasped eyes growing wide. Rose sighed relishing in the contact and feel of him under her palm.
The Doctor could feel the tingle of power on his cheek neither hot nor cold, just there, existing. It was very much an alive pressure.
Pressing further than she had ever done before rose moved so her lips were next to his ear; she whispered.
"Doctor,"
He heard her, a gentle sob escaped him; her voice was a distant whisper on the air, though it called out to him louder than shot of a gun. Risking it Rose moved to cover his lips with her own.
When he felt a tingle on his lips he sagged wishing that he could touch her back but it was the brush of a feather against his skin. Not quite there yet. Then she was gone, he could tell by the smell of ozone hanging around every time she left.
The Doctor stood outside the TARDIS; it had been a long time since he had been to this part of earth. Clara was shopping but he was quite happy to stay exactly where he was. The gulls cawed in the sky, and the fresh sea air flew in on the breeze. He had a few hours yet to wait for the TARDIS to be full charged on the fit energy from Cardiff. His eyes drooped heavily; he had barely slept in- lord knew how long? But maybe now with Clara entertained for the new few hours with the local sights, he could have a few moments to close his eyes? This sounded very good to him. Apparently the TARDIS agreed with him as the doors were already open in invitation. He found his room, ignored the mess and collapsed onto his bed (gadgets, trinkets and all). He'd scarcely taken a breath before sleep claimed him and he was snoring.
The Doctor was in a cabin. It was a warm cosy place. A log fire burned heating the small home. He explored this dream, he didn't dream often and usually this was places he'd been before (memories). This was all new and fascinating. He left the warm living room with its chequered quilt covered sofa and the abundance of dirty and washed mugs. The owner of this home liked their tea (now he wanted a cuppa). Curiously he moved over and picked up a TARDIS blue mug. He was mildly surprised that he could interact with this dream realm. Placing the mug down he continued to explore, coming to the front door where a quaint sized deck looked out over a breath-taking view of mountains and a fjord. He was too captivated by the landscape to notice right away but when he tilted his head he saw the person sleeping in the only chair on the deck.
The Time Lord jumped, his hearts beating an erratic tattoo against his ribs. Rose Tyler reclined in the padded deck chair, a steaming mug of tea (herbal tea?) he tip-toed over to her and examined her. What he saw only reaffirmed to him that this was only a dream; she was exactly as he remembered her. Dream Rose scrunched her nose up in her sleep and he couldn't help the smile that tugged into place. She always used to do that. Without thinking he extended a hand and brushed a lock of her blonde hair away from her forehead. Her eyes flew open and she sat up so suddenly her mug of tea smashed on the deck. Gold danced with her chocolate brown and she locked onto him.
The Doctor didn't move and inch as she slowly got to her feet and prowled towards him. A gentle hum starting in the back of his mind (a song). Dream Rose stopped just before their noses touched.
"Doctor?" she frowned as though struggling to see him.
"Rose, this is a dream," he spoke more to himself (the song got louder).
"No," she replied tilting her head, "I'm awake."
It was like being punched in the gut. The involuntary sob slipped past his lips and the tear fell from his eye, her hand reached up and brushed it away. The raw power of her touch tingled across his skin. Like that time in the bathroom but so much stronger, it was almost there, almost as it should be.
"How?" he breathed not daring to scare this torturous vision away by talking to loud.
"I don't know," she whispered back. "You regenerated again."
"Yep, this is the third face you've seen," the doctor was holding back so much, a dam inside was ready to burst, but this place with her only seemed to allow the barest of anything. Too much would burst the bubble. She mumbled something under her breath, which he didn't catch. He canted his head to the said "what?"
"Fourth, I saw you, a younger you, an older face," her hand hovered over his face as though to touch before she dropped it. "I saw the three of you, you, pretty boy and war you."
A thrill of realization shot through him. So he had felt something, he remembered her, the strange girl in ragged clothes with glowing eyes. He didn't want to talk about that though. Fighting the tears back he asked another question to change the topic.
"Where are we?"
"Norway, what?" He'd laughed, a startled sound, vulnerable as he looked at the view again.
"Figures," he said smiling wanly. "You've not aged...?" he was afraid of the answer.
"Can't," she looked away sadly. Worried and distressed he reached out to take her hand, as their skin touched again it was as though a sudden surge of energy rushed through the two of them and they both stumbled. Once the feeling subsided there was a sense that this was coming to an end. He felt the world slipping away the images around him vanishing to a grey fog. He called out but she was already gone, the feel of her hand in his was a hot brand though she was gone. The soft lullaby of a song he'd heard in the distance now thundered to a crescendo! The Time Vortex ran out reaching into every part of his mind as it had done when he'd first looked into it as a child. The world was shaking. Crumbling away but the song remained. Through the music he heard a word just one word.
"DOCTOR!"
He fell from his bed, small items felling off shelves as the TARDIS shook around him. His ship was reaching out into his head, pushing him towards the doors past the console room (the music got louder). He clamped his hands over his ears as he staggered through and out tossed side to side until at last he was outside. The deafening song ended abruptly once he was outside. It was night. The TARDIS doors slammed shut. With shaking fingers he straightened his bow-tie and turned. The Doctor stood very still as the air before him shimmered with golden light, rippling like sun through water. He took out his sonic, though he doubted he'd need it. He had a feeling he knew who it was. Risking the possibility that it would vanish when he did, he touched the golden shimmer and the power surged up his arm and coiled around his hearts with a purr. He grabbed hold of something solid and pulled. An arm then a body emerged and still he pulled, until the unconscious Rose Tyler fell from the air into his arms. He cradled her to his chest like he had once done when she was a small girl.
He sat on the concrete in the centre of Cardiff waiting terrified. What if her eyes didn't open? No sooner had the frightening thought crossed did the eyelids of the woman he held, open and revealed two chocolate brown orbs staring up into his green.
"Hey," she breathed.
"Hi," he couldn't stop grinning.
Clara watched the Doctor cradling a woman in his arms, the smile the biggest on his face that she had ever seen. The woman was grinning back up at him. They were talking, laughing. Their hands holding on tightly (naturally). She smiled at her Doctor and his Rose. She knew that nothing was ever impossible, not when you had a time machine, (which knew when to be somewhere). After giving them their time Clara approached, and introduced herself and was introduced.
The Doctor steadied Rose as she stood on wobbly legs. He still held her hand not daring to let go, not just yet, he needed to keep reminding himself that she was there. But there she was, with him. The mind reeled.
"So," he said looking from one of his companions to the other (Clara had a knowing grin) and tilted his head towards the blue box. "Want to come in?"
"Yep," Rose popped the p, giving his hand a squeeze and that amazing tongue in tooth grin he's missed so much. His stomach tied in knots he said.
"Fantastic," he replied.
"Brilliant," she countered.
"Allons-y," he fired back grinning.
"Geronimo," Clara added feeling a little left out of this obvious inside joke. The three of them burst into raucous laughter as the TARDIS opened her doors and allowed her travellers inside.
So this is just a stand along for now, but if you want me to add more to this little story, then I will. But for now this is my first attempt at Dr. Who fiction and I am happy with how it turned out, though I'd like to hear your thoughts, so leave me a little nibblett to read on my breaks at work. (Make my day).
Thank you.