I'm so sorry for how long it has taken me to upload. Life has been getting in the way! This chapter is only short but I hope it is enough for now. There won't be many more until the end. Thank you to those that have stuck with it so far! I will try my utmost to write faster. Anyway - here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy!
Each of his atoms dematerialised from a warm, comfortable environment, dancing like fireflies in the ether that transcended time and space, and reconnected with grating impact within the brittle snowstorm that grasped OBW-57 in a permanently frosty hold. It was like being submerged in ice-water without warning, a shock to the senses that caused the Doctor to sharply inhale before turning his coat collar upwards and plunging his now numb hands into the deep pockets. Travelling via TARDIS was always more comfortable, as the intelligent time machine would often slowly alter her own internal climate to benefit the driver upon arrival. It was subtle, but worked. The crassness of a Vortex Manipulator did away with such luxuries. Still, there was no helping that, and his unique physiology would soon aid him in acclimatising to the harsh weather. Cautiously, he stepped forward, pushing through the blizzard and towards a wooden tower, beneath which a rodent-like humanoid creature was cowering on the floor, clutching his ears. Further past him, an almost invisible glimmer against the horizon gave away the location of a universal rift, one that the Doctor was all too familiar with. He took a deep breath as he strode onwards, grimacing instinctively when another, younger version of himself stepped purposefully through the rift and looked down upon the rat with an air of superiority. How embarrassing to witness this side of himself in third person.
Ulpa was shaking at the sight of his tormentor. "Are you… are you a God?"
"Something like that."
"Ooh, aren't we full of ourselves?" The Doctor rolled his eyes as he approached. His younger self's head snapped up, brows furrowed and mouth curled into a confused 'O'. Half of his face bubbled with fresh burns, giving him a villainous appearance.
"Wha…what is happening?" Ulpa squeaked, eyes darting between the two identical Time Lords with fear.
"Just the question I was about to ask." The younger Doctor squinted his eyes, but now a smirk played on his lips. "Crossing our own time stream, that can't mean good news."
The older Time Lord smiled back, small and sad. He raised his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug and then pushed a finger into his eye as he replied. "No, it really isn't. Basically… you need to anything but what you're planning to do."
Ulpa had stood now and was dusting the snow from his legs. "I told him - I mean, you - I told you not to go through. I tried to stop you!"
"I know. And I'm sorry."
"Hold on," The young Doctor shook his head rapidly. "What could be so terrible that I could ever consider letting Rose d-"
His sentence cut off with a gulp. He couldn't even bring himself to speak the words; his pain and manic self-importance was still fresh. It had been mere hours since he'd been on that beach. Still, he collected himself quickly and continue, voice low. "Why are you here? What does this cause?"
The older Doctor had expected a small fight, though in the end, logic would win out. He didn't skip a beat, didn't even blink, as he responded with soft sorrow. "The end of the Universe."
"Surely not?"
"Afraid so."
The younger Doctor sighed. Of course, if he was willing to cross his own time stream in order to prevent coming events, it had to be true – changing one's history was not done with ease. He dropped his head. "She's going to die."
"Probably." The older one agreed. "Though only your version. My version is safe, I left her in a bubble universe. She will survive this." Noticing the hope his other self's face, he added, "But we can't ever see her again. Not if this paradox is to stay intact. I, um, I made a thing. It should keep our meeting stable, but it can't hold much more."
"So, I have to leave knowing that she's alive somewhere and I can't ever see her again."
"It's what would have happened regardless."
"And our child?"
The older Doctor gave a small smile. "Alive and well. They're both safe."
Both Time Lords stared at each other now. One full of fire, anger and desperation. The other full of resignation and deep regret. Though the snowstorm raged around them, the air felt still. Silent. Deadly. Ulpa, lips wobbling, sniffed and gathered his poison stick, aiming it at them with a snarl. "I'll give you one last chance to leave Outpost Bad Wolf Fifty-Seven, but if I ever see you again-"
"What did you say?" The older Doctor croaked at the same time the younger Doctor exclaimed, "What?!"
"W-what?" Ulpa stuttered, the urgency in the visitors' eyes throwing him off his stance.
"You said Bad Wolf." The younger Doctor whispered.
"OBW-57." The older one pinched the bridge of his nose. "I kept calling it Outpost Bravo Whiskey. Why didn't you correct me?"
Ulpa frowned. "I figured you were speaking in phonetics. You knew everything about the star system, the rift, everything. I assumed you knew the name of my outpost too. Why, is it important?"
Neither Doctor answered, instead looking at each other with varying degrees of worry. The younger one spoke warily. "Those words were a message to Rose. Not us. They only appear when she is around."
"But," The older one mused. "She never came here. Not once."
As if on cue, the groan of a certain blue box hovered in the air. Both Doctors felt their hearts drop as the time machine slowly came into view. The older Doctor pulled the paradox machine from his pocket, listening as it began to wheeze and fail, and growled with fury. "The TARDIS can't be here! What has she done?"
"Never mind that," His younger self spat. "How did she fly the TARDIS?"
The doors swung open at that, unleashing blinding tendrils of golden light which, as they spiralled outside, froze the storm as though pausing a scene on the television. Each snowflake hung eerily still, reminiscent of decorative baubles on a Christmas tree. The wind dropped and the older Doctor felt the hairs on the back of his arms rise. He turned to speak to the others, only to find both his younger self and Ulpa were also frozen, both a vision of absolute horror. He turned again to the TARDIS, where Rose was now stepping outside. She was still wearing those pale grey joggers and the baggy white t-shirt from before, her blonde hair framing her pink cheeks. Her demeaner was calm and a grin danced across her lips. She was beautiful. The Doctor glared at her, his adoration of her overshadowed by his paralysing fear of what being here could mean for both of them.
"Rose, what have you done?" He gestured around him, spitting each word.
"She isn't aware," Rose's smiled dropped into a hurt pout. She tapped her head with a single finger. "She's sleeping, in here."
"What are you talking about? Who are you?"
"I think I'm called… Bad Wolf."
"What?!"
