Chapter 7: The Fall

The dream was no longer a dream. It was reality. It was hunger and hatred and fury and dozens upon dozens of emotions that defied labels or descriptions. This was her life. Constant hunger, constant craving, constant desire.

This was hell. Her own personal hell, locked away in a mind that churned with fury and hunger. She could see him. The small, tiny, insignificant portion of who she used to be could see him and she suddenly knew. One glance was all it took and she knew. Oh, she knew.

Hope sprung eternal. Even for someone who should be dead, or was dead but couldn't accept it, or whatever one would call her current existence as a scrap of thought buried beneath the mantle of vampire and Bad Wolf.

And there it was. Hope. An avalanche only needed the smallest of pebbles to start. That was what she was. A pebble. A tiny, almost insignificant fragment held captive, but not for long. The smallest push and she could be free. The slightest rebellion and she could regain control.

And, now, she knew how.

It would only take a moment, an instant of distraction, and she could slip in, try to take over. She remembered everything, now. She remembered Satellite Five, and the feel of the Vortex as she controlled it, manipulated it to her whim. That knowledge was power.

She could manage Bad Wolf. She'd done it before. The vampire, on the other hand, was an amateur. She had managed to keep most of her knowledge regarding the Vortex to herself.

She had the advantage. This was her body, her mind, her Bad Wolf.

This was her dream. Her nightmare.

And she should be able to control it.

Life, Jack had long ago determined, was a series of gambles. Take a risk, take a chance, and sometimes the game was won and sometimes it was lost. But what mattered were those chances. Those moments could result in victory or failure, yet it was the choices that counted.

It'd be easy. Simple. She was distracted, screaming. And, much as it tore his heart to hear the sound, he consoled himself that it wasn't his Rose. This was a vampire, and it needed to be stopped, killed. Despite the Doctor's certainty that the real Rose, the one they loved, might somehow be reached, he couldn't take the risk.

He moved slowly, careful not to make a sudden gesture that might catch the vampire's attention. He just had to fit the bolt to the crossbow and...

Movement. Just to the side, barely noticeable, almost as if someone had darted behind one of the crates that lined the room. Another vampire? Or... He caught a flash of dark hair and a lithe build and fought the urge to curse loudly.

Gwen.

Of course it'd have to be her. She never knew when to stay put. He made a mental note to invest in some sort of restraints – handcuffs would do, but she might get the wrong idea. Then again, knowing her, she'd just manage to slip out of them.

Damn her anyway.

Yet…oh, yes. Gwen was one step ahead of him. He could see her crossbow, see her aim for Rose – not Rose, he told himself firmly – and rest her finger on the trigger.

The screams seemed to rise in pitch, almost as if the vampire knew what was coming.

Goodbye, Rose.

The bolt fired, whistling through the air toward Rose. Another instant, and it'd hit her. Just one moment and this entire dreadful experience would be finished. Done. He'd finally be able to mourn Rose properly and pick up the pieces of a broken Time Lord.

He could trace the path of the quarrel as it shot toward her, following just behind it with his eyes. He couldn't look away. He had to watch this, watch her end, because he owed it to her. He owed it to Rose, the woman he loved, to be a silent witness.

And then everything changed. A blur of a brown pin-striped suit got in the quarrel's path. The bolt hit home and he could only watch in horror as the Doctor and Rose collapsed to the ground. The sharp impact of bone against concrete echoed through the room and terror pounded through his heart.

No! Oh, god, no.

He hurried forward, disregarding the danger. "Doctor!" What had the stupid bastard done? The Time Lord might've condemned them all this time.

Rose wasn't moving, but he could tell that she was still alive – or whatever counted as life for a vampire. She groaned, but his attention was on the Doctor.

The bolt was embedded fletching-deep in his friend's right shoulder. The Doctor's face was pale and pinched with pain, and his left hand was pressed against the wound. "She can do it, Jack," the Doctor said, his voice rough from pain. Blood welled up between his fingers, coating them in burnt orange. "Rose can defeat the vampire virus."

He could hear Gwen approaching from behind him and, trusting her to watch his back, he shook his head. "You can't be sure of that! You might've just killed everyone, Doctor. And for what? She's not Rose, Doctor. Rose is dead. We can't take the chance."

"You don't know that. It'll work," the Time Lord insisted, his expression imploring.

He wouldn't allow himself to be swayed. Rose would be awake and after them any moment now. There was no choice. Turning back toward Gwen, he spoke in a voice that he himself could barely recognise. "Gwen, you know what to do." God forgive him.

"Yeah," she said softly, and he could hear the sympathy in her voice. "I do."

"No!" the Doctor objected, struggling to get to his feet. He put his hand on the other man's chest to keep him still. "It'll work!"

"I'm sorry," he said and he could see anguish roiling in his friend's eyes. Anguish and accusation.

He'd been the one who had been angry at the Doctor. He was the one who had been convinced that he could never forgive the Time Lord for what he'd done. Leaving him behind to die on the Game Station. Forgetting about him. But this, he knew, would be it.

The Doctor would never forgive him for this.

So be it.

No! Stupid, bloody…apes! "You have to give her a chance!" he tried again as he gritted his teeth against the burning pain of his wounded shoulder. He willed Jack to hear him. But the man had stopped listening. He could tell just from the look in his eyes. Resignation. Defeat. Sorrow.

Enough of this. Despite the pain, despite Jack's hand pressed against his chest, he forced himself to sit up. It'd only take a moment, a second, and he could slow down time. He could move quickly, get in Gwen's way, give Rose a chance.

A chance would be all that she'd need. Just one, and she could do it. He knew she could. Wouldn't believe otherwise. It was Rose, his Rose, and she'd save herself.

He groaned as his movement caused the bolt to move inside his shoulder, sending a fresh coat of bright orange-red blood over his fingers. He'd have to deal with the injury, but not yet. He had a life to save.

"Damnit, Doctor, you're going to hurt yourself more. Lie back down," Jack snapped.

He ignored the comment, pushing the other man away with almost careless ease – oh, he'd regret that later. Concentration was the key. He could see Gwen out of the corner of his eye as she pulled out a wooden stake.

He drew in a bracing breath and began to concentrate. Time was a river. It ebbed and flowed based on perceptions and the basic laws of the universe. Its course could be altered or slowed. Changed and manipulated. But carefully, oh so carefully, or the space-time continuum could fracture.

Only in this room, just within his line of sight, he tried to force time to slow to a mere trickle. Anything to buy himself (and Rose) a chance.

His goal was usurped as he felt a more powerful hand take control.

"Stop." The word was a command and Time listened.

Gwen was frozen mid-step. Jack's mouth was open almost as if he were about to speak. And he could still move.

He found that revelation startling. There was little doubt that Bad Wolf could freeze him as easily as she had the others. She had so much power at her fingertips. He struggled to his feet, turning to face her.

Her eyes were still the vibrant gold of the Vortex, but something fundamental had changed. Her stance was different from before, more relaxed, less predatory.

"Doctor," Rose said and he knew. He knew.

"Rose," he replied, willing his hopes to be true.

She grimaced, lifting a hand to her temple. "It hurts," she said. "Why does it hurt?"

"Did you…" he began, stepping forward, but she held up a hand.

"Don't come any closer!" she instructed, moving back to maintain some measure of distance between them. "This is hard enough without the...temptation."

'Temptation?' he wanted to ask, but then he realised what she meant. His wound. The blood. Which meant that this was Rose. His Rose.

"I don't have much time, Doctor. I don't know much longer I can keep this up, but I'm going to try something. An' if it doesn't work... I jus' wanted to say, 'm sorry. For all of this. 'S not your fault, okay? Don't blame yourself. I wish..." Her face reflected intense pain and he could barely restrain himself from going to her.

"Rose, don't. It is my fault." The words were choked.

"No, it's not," she replied, shaking her head. "I brought the TARDIS here, Doctor. 'S because of me. But I had to do it 'cause of causality. An' now...well, this is it. There's so much I wish I could say, but there isn't enough time." Tears ran down her cheeks. "I want you safe. You and Jack. Safe. An'...if this doesn't work. I want you to promise me somethin'."

"Anything," he replied, dreading what she was going to ask.

"Kill me. If this doesn't work an' I'm still a vampire, kill me. Please."

How else could he respond? Much as it would murder him to do so, he had no choice. For Rose. He'd do it for her. "Okay."

"Thanks." She staggered slightly and shook her head. "I can't...Doctor, I jus' want you to know… I..."

Rose didn't complete her words, she couldn't, and he could only watch as the Vortex energy glowed brighter and brighter.

Time screamed.

He screamed along with it as his senses overloaded one by one until blessed unconsciousness claimed him.

And he knew no more.

Poised on a breath, she could feel the fabric of time stretch to the breaking point. One more nudge and it would unravel, lashing through the universe as it wiped itself from existence.

She could do that. So, so easily. All it would take was a wish, a desire, and it would happen. One moment of weakness and the world would be gone and she wouldn't have to fight anymore.

Although she had control now, when would it end? Already she could feel the vampire virus inside of her struggle for control. She feared that it was a losing battle for her. She knew what he'd say. He'd tell her to have faith.

How could she have faith when she was so close to destroying the only thing she had faith in? If she gave in for an instant, just an instant, the vampire would have control. She'd lose, and that would be the end.

Then the Doctor would have to fulfil his promise.

No. She couldn't do that to him. She mustn't do that to him. She loved him too much to give up that easily. Right. She was Rose Tyler. Companion to the last Time Lord. And she was the Bad Wolf.

She reached into the Vortex, pulling strands of time toward her. The easiest way would be to turn back time to reverse everything that her vampire self had done. However, much as she wished, she couldn't undo all that had been done. She couldn't save everyone. She couldn't turn back months to stop the vampires before they started killing.

If she tried, the consequences would be devastating. She could see it all spread out before her, the future's pages fluttering past as she read all that could be, should be, and would never be. One path was open to her, just one.

She could turn back time to three days past – the three days that her vampire-self had used to make the change permanent. And, then, she could move her body back even further, to before she'd been bitten. The knowledge she'd gained would remain. But the vampire virus would be gone as well as the consequences of her actions by speeding up time.

However, it would be the hardest thing she'd ever done. She knew the Doctor had sensed what she was about to do, and she sent him a silent apology for the havoc she knew it was wreaking on his senses. Unconsciousness was best for him.

No more time. No more considerations. She held the three within the warehouse in a protective grip and, a moment later, she stretched out her arms and sang.

There was this singing…

Clocks turned back, whirling faster and faster as the hours disappeared as if they'd never been. Planets and stars spun through the sky as they re-traced their paths. The sun set and rose and set and rose in violation of natural law.

And, still, she sang.

It was a song of time, of redemption, of the past and future. Of all the could bes and will bes of existence.

The song stretched across the world, and everything changed. The vampire was forced to recede, the power was hers.

Night became day became night became day became night became day. She felt the dawn slip away into night again and she held onto a final note.

Her turn.

Still protectively cradling her charges, she set the temporal energies loose upon herself. Turning back the hours of the night she'd been bitten, feeling the changes begin to recede and, with it, her control over the Vortex. But she grimly held on.

There was no choice.

She had to do it, had to succeed. She felt her bite marks disappear and knew the vampire virus was gone. She was free. She was Rose Tyler again and, with a gasp of relief, she let go.

Bad Wolf receded into the back of her mind where it had always rested, the glow that lit the darkened warehouse receded, and Time snapped back into motion.

Exhausted, she fell to the ground, her legs unable to continue to support her. Fragments of memories, of possible futures, overwhelmed her. Unconsciousness threatened. Blackness coated the edges of her vision and, as it drew in, she could see someone – a woman – moving to stand over her.

The woman, she realised, was carrying a stake.

And then the darkness rolled in, engulfing her mind, and she succumbed to it.

To be continued...