Title: Broken
Rating: T
Set: Shortly after 'Father's Day'.
Spoilers: 'Father's Day' (obviously) and anything else so far is fair game
Author's Note: This is for all the people over at Time and Chips whose collective squees I could hear in my head as I was watching the episode!

Edit: This has been edited to get rid of the typos. Sorry about that and thanks to Jilly for pointing it out. I blame it on two things: 1) I posted this at 1am and 2) Quick Edit didn't like me yesterday so I didn't check it over one last time.


"Chip?" the Doctor asked, shoving the bag under her nose and wiggling it about a bit, trying to make them look inviting.

"No thanks."

"I left you all the crispy ones," he tempted, "I know you like those."

She shook her head, shoving her hands in her pockets as a gesture of total refusal.

"No, it's alright. You eat them."

The Doctor frowned. He'd brought Rose down to the seaside at Folkestone to cheer her up, but it didn't seem to be doing much good. Maybe it was a mistake to bring her here with all these people. Maybe he would have been better off taking her to some far off alien world of the future, where she could forget all about humans and families. Or at least not have constant reminders of them pushed in her face.

He just wasn't all that good at this emotional stuff, he could accept that. As a Time Lord he had never really need to be. But the Time Lords were gone and if he was going to have some kind of a future he needed to throw himself in with other beings. Humans always seemed the best option. He physically resembled them and, more importantly, he liked them. This one in particular. If only he could know more about their reactions and emotions. He was learning it from Rose – the one thing she had to teach him. But at the moment she seemed just as lost as he was.

If he really thought about it, he should never have taken her to see the accident in the first place. Even he realised how hard it would be on her, and that he had been expecting too much to think she would just stand by and let the father that she never knew die.

But she had asked him to do it. She wanted it so much and he found it disturbingly hard to refuse her anything.

"Do want ice cream?" he asked, as they passed a beach side shop.

She shook her head, staring at the pavement in front of her feet.

"No, it's alright. You can if you want."

He shook his head gravely, "I'm not hungry. I just thought you might be."

He hadn't said anything, but he was almost certain she hadn't eaten at all since they had returned, hand in hand, to the TARDIS. He had given her the occasional glass of water, standing over her to make sure that she drunk it. As long as she was getting some fluid into her she'd be okay without food for a couple of days. She was likely still in shock and it would take her some time to get her appetite back.

But a couple of days had passed and she showed little sign of recovery. In fact, she was looking worse by the hour – paler and more drawn. She spoke less and less. There were dark rings under her eyes that she hadn't even bothered trying to cover with make up, and her hair was scraped up in a rough ponytail. It was like she had given up caring and that scared him. He needed her to care.

"Can we sit down?" she asked, ignoring his last comment, "Just for a while."

He gave a small nod and she led them over and down the steps, onto the sand and shingle beach. She sat there, starring out to sea. The French coast was obscured by a light mist and the channel seemed to disappear into nothingness. The waves were lapping just a few feet from where his toes were. The tide was coming in.

They sat there for a long time, in total silence, the world carrying on around them. A kid was crying because the sand castle she had built was being swallowed by the sea. A dog ran into the water, chasing a ball and immediately regretted it when he realised how cold the water was.

All the while Rose starred out into the distance, not seeing any of it.

The water touched the tip of his shoes.

"We should get going," he said, quietly, not wanting to startle her, "Tide's coming in."

He stood up, holding out his hand. She didn't take it.

"Rose?" he asked crouching down beside her. He reached out to place his hand on her arm, but stopped before it got there. Clearly he'd underestimated the effect this had all had on her. Something was very wrong.

"I could sit here and disappear," she whispered, in a distant voice, "I could walk out there and not come back. And it would be better."

"Not for me it wouldn't," he said quickly, feeling his two hearts jolting in his chest. Was she really saying what he thought she was?

"I killed you," she said, shaking her head, unable to tear her eyes from the rapidly closing in waves, "You died because of me."

"That's not true," the Doctor said firmly.

"Maybe I shouldn't be here," she continued, as though she hadn't heard him, "I can't risk doing that again."

She stood up, wandering dangerously towards the incoming tide.

"You're the last Time Lord. You're important."

The Doctor hurriedly got to his feet, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders and turning her to face him, "So are you."

He felt like shaking her, shouting at her to stop scaring him like this. He took two deep, calming breaths, trying not to wonder on the dead, empty look in her eyes.

Rose was broken and he didn't know if he could fix her.

"Just come back to the TARDIS now. Please, " he said quietly, the desperation in his voice evident.

She stared at him for a long moment before nodding slowly, "Alright, but you have to promise to take me somewhere."


The very moment the TARDIS shuddered to a halt Rose re-entered the control room, clutching a piece of paper in her hand. The Doctor had a feeling she had been standing outside the door the whole time, waiting to be alone.

She headed straight towards the front door and he strode quickly after her. When she reached it she turned round and placed a hand on his chest.

"Just wait here," she instructed gently, "I won't be long. I promise."

He sighed heavily. Truth be told he was afraid to let her out of his sight. He couldn't shake off the memory of that hollow look in her eyes. A person in that state of mind could do anything. But as usual, she asked and he had no choice but to do as he was told. Her wish was his command.

He nodded in agreement and she left without another word.

He waited impatiently for a good hour in the oppressive silence of the TARDIS. He briefly considered traveling forward in time a little to shorten the wait, but he couldn't risk her coming back and finding him gone, not the way she was at the moment. He respected her right of privacy and her wishes, but she had said she wouldn't be long and too much time had already passed.

Making an instant decision, he stood up and marched towards the door.

Outside the heavens had opened and rain was pouring in buckets. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, not being able to remember if Rose had been wearing a coat when she left. He set off at a fast jog, down two streets, through an alleyway, passed the church and down the winding path to the yard.

There she stood, the only person daft enough to be out in this weather, rain lashing relentlessly at her small frame. She was only wearing a thin t-shirt which was already soaked through. Her hair hung limply around her face, but she didn't make any attempt to push it away.

"I do have umbrellas," he said, slightly breathless as he stepped up beside her, "You could've come back and got one if you wanted to stay here longer."

"It's alright," she dismissed quietly, starring at the stone in front of her.

Peter Alan Tyler. Devoted husband and father. Greatly missed.

It hardly seemed a fitting epitaph for someone who had saved the world.

The Doctor looked at her still, haunted face. He wished she'd cry. Scream, shout, do anything but nothing.

He tentatively reached out to take her hand. Her fingers usually gripped his with such force, but now they just hung limply in his grasp.

She was shivering though, her hands ice cold.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, taking off his jacket and wrapping it tightly around her. He pulled her closer to him, like a rag doll in his grip, and rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to get some warmth back in her.

"You'd better not get a cold," he said with a hint of humour, "I make a terrible nurse."

Silence.

"Rose," he begged, unable to stand it any longer, "Please don't do this to me."

Finally she glanced up at him, a flicker of emotion crossing her eyes when she saw the desperate look on his face.

"I lost you," she said, struggling to get the words out, "I lost you and it was the end of the world. And then I lost him too. Because I'm stupid."

"Don't be ridiculous, okay? It was a mistake, Rose. You wouldn't have done it if you knew what would happen."

"He did it," she said, glancing back at the grave as though she hadn't heard his words, "He figured it out. He knew he was gonna die."

Her voice suddenly cracked.

"He must've been so scared."

And that was it. She started sobbing desperately, pitching forward into his arms, clinging to him as though she was never letting go. He held her tightly, stroking her wet hair, the grip he had round her waist keeping her upright.

"I lost you and I lost my dad and there was no one left. How could you leave me like that?" she said fiercely, between gasping sobs, "It should've been me. You ever do that again and I'll never forgive you."

She thumped her fist into his shoulder, making it sting.

"Do you hear me?" she continued, "I'll never forgive you. Never."

He stood there in the pouring rain, whispering comforting things into her ear and rocking her gently from side to side. She cried until she didn't have the energy left to continue. Until every tear was out. Then he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, wiped the last traces of tears from her face and carefully led her over to a nearby bench, sitting her compliant form down under the relative shelter of an oak tree. The moment he joined her she shuffled up next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. His hand gently stroked the back of one of hers in a soothing manner.

"Why didn't you dump me?" she asked, in a quietly confused voice after a long pause.

"Eh?"

"All Adam did was get a stupid hole in his head," she explained, "I nearly destroyed the world. Why didn't you dump me back home like you did him?"

He shook his head, "Adam endangered the world to earn a few more IQ points. You did it to save your dad. There's a bit of a difference."

"You're right, I am just another stupid ape."

"No, I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault. You didn't know what would happen."

"But you did," she said, looking up at him, "You knew that the only way to stop it was to put right the thing I'd screwed up. For my dad to die. But you didn't even say it."

He shook his head, "I didn't want you to go through this. You shouldn't have to make those kind of choices."

"Well, if I'm going to keep traveling with you, I'm probably going to need to."

He shifted out of her grasp, standing up, not enjoying the squelching of his wet t-shirt.

"If you're going to keep travelling with me, you're going to have to get back to the TARDIS get dried off and eat something," he said firmly, "You look like you're about to pass out."

She nodded, standing too, "Okay. I'm just gonna say goodbye."

He watched from a respectful distance as Rose stepped up to the grave. He saw her kneel down beside the headstone and whisper something.

Despite what had happened, he knew Rose was glad to have met her father. In a way, so was he. He had never seen much of Jackie in her and now he knew why. She was her father's daughter. The man had sacrificed himself to save everyone else, the same way Rose would have done when they were locked in the cabinet room, trapped by the Slitheen.

Yes, definitely daddy's little girl.

She crossed back over to him, immediately grabbing his hand but this time her grip was firm once more. As they walked out of the graveyard, Rose took one final look back.

"Mum always told me how wonderful he was," she said thoughtfully, "How important he was. She never told me what really mattered. He was a good man. Not wonderful, not perfect, but good."

"Yes," the Doctor said, nodding his own thanks back at the grave, "He was."

They walked on in silence for a few moments before the Doctor turned to her with a smile.

"I did learn something very important about you from all this too."

"What's that?" she asked hesitantly.

"You were a cute baby."

A grin beamed across Rose's face and the Doctor thanked any and all existing gods.

In the peaceful graveyard, the rain finally stopped. A light breeze blew, disturbing the petals of a single white rose that lay on the grave of Peter Alan Tyler. Beneath it was stashed a simple white card, written in Rose's scrawled hand writing.

My dad.

A hero.