Chapter 4: A Tangled Web

The staring contest had started shortly after notRose's outburst. It was a good likeness, she'd give them that. However, they weren't fooling her. NotRose was younger than she was, at least by a few years, and looked healthy. Healthy! If they had wanted to mimic her, they could've at least tried to get it right. Her hair hadn't been that shade of blonde in years.

Bloody idiots. Thinking she had a twin. She certainly knew the truth. She knew that this notRose was an impostor. She'd probably been created by her father as a part of another of his twisted schemes to try and get UNIT sympathy. Though how having a copy of her would do that, she didn't know.

She knew that notRose was just that. Not her.

"So, who're you then?" she asked, folding her arms before her.

"Er, what?" notRose asked, blinking as if she weren't expecting a question. Not only did she not look like her, but she was dim too. Wonderful.

"I said, who are you?" She enunciated the words carefully.

"I'm...oh, bollocks, I can't tell you who I am." NotRose mimicked her position, only against the opposite wall.

"You can't tell me who you are," she repeated in disbelief. "Why not? You look like me, but you're not me. So tell me who you are!"

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" she scoffed before whirling on her father. "This one of your schemes? Tryin' to get UNIT sympathy with 'er or something? Or are you tryin' to learn something from me? Like where the commune is?"

Pete Tyler shook his head, holding his hands up in denial. "No, I didn't do this."

"Like I'd believe that." He was a liar. A traitor. She knew he had something to do with it.

"Um, look. Can't we just, I don't know, wait until the Doctor gets back before accusations start flyin'?" notRose asked.

She ignored the other woman. "What's it all for, Dad? What's the point of makin' her up to look like me? She's not even a good me. Lookin' for brownie points with the Sontarans or somethin'?"

"Dad had nothing to do with this," notRose interrupted.

That was when it registered. Dad. She called him "Dad." "Isn't that takin' the game a little too far? Pretendin' he's your father? You really found a nutter, Dad."

"I had nothing to do with it, Rose. She's not quite you according to the Doctor." Pete said in an attempt to mollify her.

It wouldn't work. "Doctor this, Doctor that. Doctor who?"

"My friend," notRose said. "He can sort this."

"An' what the hell's that supposed to mean? He's your friend, eh? Can sort it, huh? I can sort it for you, whoever you really are. Not quite me. What's that supposed to mean? You're obviously a nutter, thinkin' this Doctor friend can sort it. An' you, Dad? You're the biggest loony in this room. What were you tryin' to accomplish?"

"Nothing!" Pete had apparently lost his temper, but she felt no sympathy. "Nothing, Rose. Got it? I had nothing to do with this. She –" he pointed at notRose "– just showed up with the Doctor. In a blue police box back in the warehouse. I didn't conjure her. She just appeared."

"In a blue police box. In a warehouse." She repeated his words and each one dripped with scorn. "Have you heard yourself? For all I know, you've finally lost it. Completely lost it. Then again, working for the Sontarans did that to you, didn't it? Traitor."

"It's not like that," Pete protested.

"Isn't it?" she asked.

"Would you jus' stop it? Let's just wait for..."

"The Doctor?" she asked, whirling on her look-alike. "Can't make decisions for yourself, can ya?"

"Would you just SHUT UP?" notRose shouted. "This isn't helpin'."

No one talked to her like that. No one. Her expression twisted into a snarl as she stalked forward, one finger outstretched to tap notRose in the chest. "Where is he now, whoever you are? Your Doctor?"

As if her question summoned him, the door banged open with enough force to leave it rattling in its frame. A tall man with closely cropped dark hair and startlingly blue eyes hurried inside to interpose himself between her and notRose. "Stop."

Just one word. He said one word and she did. She stopped.

"You can't touch Rose. Either of you. The timeline's mucked up enough as it is. So, introductions." He grinned maniacally at her before he continued. "I'm the Doctor. Nice to meet you, Rose. You've already met yourself. Now, question and answer time. Rose isn't exactly you, and you're not exactly her. Pete's not quite her father, but he is yours. Oh, and this wasn't supposed to happen. There. All answered? Good. Just remember, don't touch her."

She finally found her voice. "Why?"

"You don't want to know. Rose?" His brow furrowed as he looked between her and notRose. "Well, my Rose. We've got a meeting to get to. Sorry to interrupt the family spat, but you understand."

She grabbed his arm. "Oh, no, you don't. You don't get to swan off after sayin' that. Just what the hell is going on around here? I want explanations."

He stilled at her touch and frowned. "This isn't how it's supposed to go. Any of this. You're not supposed to be you, Rose. An' the Sontarans never should've invaded. I should've prevented this, but I didn't. The alternate version of me's dead. An' I need to find out what happened. That's what's going on, Rose Tyler. An' that's all you're going to get."

"That's not good enough," she growled. Alternate versions? Not how it was 'supposed to go?' Did he think he was on Star Trek? Fine. She could play along. "Who's she, then, Doctor? Me? A me that would've existed had things gone as they were 'supposed to?' Who're you to make that decision? What if you're wrong? What if this is how it's 'supposed to go?'"

"I don't accept that," he immediately replied. However, she could see a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"Why not? What right do you 'ave to..."

"Leave him alone," notRose said, stepping around the Doctor and sliding her hand into his. "This isn't how it's supposed to go. He said. He knows."

"How can he know? Tell me that? How can he say how things 're supposed to go?"

"Because I do," he said, neatly slipping free of her grip. "Because if I don't do something, you lot are going to be nothing more than a memory an' that's not what's supposed to happen."

"That's not an answer!" Did he have to speak in half-riddles and these strange half-truths? Listening to him was like trying to interpret the deeper meaning of a motto from a cheap cracker.

He smiled grimly. "It is. You just don't know it yet."

"So what're you going to do, Doctor? Pretend you're Mister Spock an' alter history to suit your needs? Your desires? Tell me this, Doctor, if you're so used to playing God for us – where've you been? Where were you when I lost m' Dad to the Sontarans? Where were you when the first city fell to the invaders? Where were you when I watched my city burn because of the fighting? Where were you when people in my commune starved to death? Why wait? Why now?"

His blue eyes reflected a fathomless despair and she found herself regretting her words. NotRose glared at her as she gently touched his jacket-clad arm. "I didn't know."

If notRose could've touched her, she suspected that her hands would've been around her throat. The protectiveness made her curious, much as it angered her. That she could've had that, could've had a world without the Sontarans, without the constant fear, rankled. She could've had that. She could've been notRose. She could've been something more.

But she wasn't.

"Dad's still here. He's right over here. So how could you say you lost 'im?" notRose asked, deliberately changing the course of the conversation away from the Doctor.

"Because he's not my Dad. Not anymore. He's a traitor."

Pete Tyler finally spoke, finally protested. She had almost forgotten that he was there.

"I've 'ad enough of this! 'S time you knew the truth, sweetheart. An' you're gonna listen for once. 'Cause I'm not a traitor by choice. I did it for you. They were gonna kill you, Rose. That day, three years ago, just after Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart died. We were runnin' back to shelter, avoidin' the roadblocks, an' getting' shot. Remember?"

She remembered. Like it was yesterday, she remembered. She nodded.

"We were caught by that Sontaran patrol. I didn't know what to do. They didn't keep anyone under twenty-one. They would've killed ya, so...I gave myself up. Told 'em that I could help 'em if they let you go. An', while I distracted them, you got away. I didn't. I stayed. 'Cause I knew that if I didn't, they'd go after you. You'd be next, an' I couldn't bear that. It was better to be a traitor than to lose you."

No. That couldn't be true. She shook her head in denial. "No. That's not true. You led them to our shelter. You showed them where we were hiding!"

His expression turned pained as he ran his hand across his greying hair. "I didn't have a choice, Rose. I'd hoped that you'd have enough time to warn them, an' you did. You did. 'S not your fault that some of them wouldn't leave."

"Yes it is! We ran, an' when I turned, I saw you. I saw you standing over the rubble of what once was our shelter. That's when I knew. I knew you'd turned traitor. My own Dad." She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the need for some sort of comfort even if it was contrived.

"That's a typical Sontaran strategy, Rose," the Doctor said, his tone gentle. "'S also how they keep the loyalty of those who serve them. It's a lesson. Fail and die. Fail and join them."

She glared at him even as she accepted the truth of his words. There was something about him, even if he spoke of alternate worlds and lived in his own version of Star Trek, that made her trust him. Made her want to trust him. To believe him. Her carefully constructed idea of what must've happened to her father was falling apart.

Maybe...maybe her dad hadn't had a choice.

"I tried. God knows I did. Did little things, small things, to try an' protect the commune – to protect you. But they got suspicious. Those Sontarans that were with me? In the warehouse? They weren't support. They were guards. I was as much a prisoner as you were," Pete admitted quietly.

She needed to sit down or brace herself against something, anything. Everything that she had thought. Everything that she had known to be true had been a lie. She'd deluded herself. Deluded her Mum, deluded everyone. Now that she thought about it, it should've been obvious.

Who was the bloody idiot in this situation? She was. Just her. She found the wall with her questing fingers and leaned against it, letting its solid strength bolster her own. The words, when they came, were whispered. "'M sorry, Dad. So, so sorry...I didn't know."

With a faint rustle of fabric, he was there. Her dad. He wrapped his arms around her and she remembered what it had been like. Before the Sontarans, before the university and their lives had grown apart. Just her and her Dad.

She embraced him, burying her face in his shoulder as she mumbled apology after apology.

"'S all right, Rose. 'S okay. 'M here, an' I'm not goin' anywhere."

A muffle sob caught her attention and she lifted her face from her dad's shoulder. NotRose was enfolded in the Doctor's arms – she was the one crying. She could faintly hear her alternate self's words.

"But he does. Oh god, Doctor, he does."

He felt his hearts break as he heard her muffled words. Silently he cursed the fates that had led them to this point. She shouldn't have to see this, shouldn't have to suffer like this. Seeing the bittersweet reunion had fractured her already fragile emotions and he didn't know what to do. What could he do?

She had found her dad. And, if he had his way – if he fixed the timeline as he should – she'd lose him all over again. It was his turn to apologise.

The alternate Rose was right. What possible right did he have to deem who should live and who should die? He had done it before. The alternate Silurian-controlled Earth was one glaring example of what he had done. Best of reasons, that. Saved the world, prevented the premature heat-death of the universe, but at what cost? Millions had died on Earth alone.

Gallifrey was another.

What price would his actions bring? Why did every one of his actions always result in a body-count? Was this his impact upon the universe? He saved the world, saved the universe, saved a person with blood-red hands.

She trembled in his arms and he closed his eyes in sympathy. Oh, Rose. What had he done? What was he about to do? But, if he didn't do anything. If he allowed this alternate reality – or, as he was swiftly beginning to suspect this altered timeline – to continue, what would that mean?

The end of the human race.

The end of Rose. His Rose. The bright, happy, intelligent, brave woman in his arms would be no more. She and her alternate self could co-exist for a finite time. Not forever. Not in the same timeline. And, when time was up, the Rose that belonged to the timeline – this timeline – would remain.

Without humans, without those pesky, endearing, cold, loving, warm, feisty, humorous, daring, adventurous apes mucking about the universe, what was it all for? Without Rose, what was it all for? No. He had no choice. Much as it would hurt her, and through her him, he had no choice at all.

Time to sort this mess.

"You all right?" he asked softly, ignoring the similar discussion across the room. For the moment, his entire universe was focused upon her. His Rose.

"Will be," she replied. "'M sorry, Doctor. Dunno what happened there."

"Don't apologise," he told her, brushing his hand against her cheek. "I'm the one that should apologise. For all of this. 'S my fault."

"No, it's not." Rose shook her head. "'S not your fault, Doctor. You couldn't 'ave known. An' yeah, it's hard, but we've gotta do it. You're right. 'S not right, an' you can fix it. We can fix it. 'Cause if we don't, who will?"

What had he done to deserve her? Even though he knew, as she did, that she'd lose her Dad all over again, she was going to let him. "You sure?"

She smiled faintly. "Wouldn't say so if I wasn't. Yeah, it'll hurt. But there's no choice. For us, for the planet, or anyone."

She understood. In that moment, she knew what it was like to be him. He tightened his embrace and then released her, letting one of his hands slide down her arm to entwine their fingers.

"That's it exactly." He grinned brightly and tugged at her hand. Time to sort this mess.

"'S been nice to meet ya, Rose, Pete. But we've got a meeting to get to, an' you two 've got three years to catch up on. Have fun an' don't stay up too late." He waved his free hand at them and started for the door.

"Who are you, Doctor?" the other Rose asked. "Really?"

His answer was one that he often used. After all, several lifetimes' worth of answers couldn't be wrong. "A friend." And, with that as his exit line, he led his Rose outside.

"So what is goin' on, Doctor? When'd time change? An' what caused it?" she asked as they walked down the corridor back to Bambera's office. This time no one bothered to challenge them nor were they escorted. He wasn't certain if he felt pleased or insulted by that.

"That's what we're gonna try to find out. We know, at least, that the change 'appened sometime during or before 1987."

"Why then?" she asked. Before he could answer, understanding dawned. "'Cause of my dad."

"Yeah. So we've only got a couple of millennia to search for our answers. Easy as pie." It'd just take a while. A long while. A while that they couldn't afford to spend.

She looked sceptical. "Right."

"Exactly." He beamed.

"So how're we gonna find those answers? 'Cause we don't have a couple of millennia to search for 'em?"

"That's the easy part. Narrow it down," he said as they reached Bambera's office. Without bothering to knock, he opened the door.

The Brigadier and Colonel Yates looked up at his entrance and he grinned. "Miss me?"

Bambera sighed. "Doctor." His name was a warning.

"Right. So, introductions redux. Rose Tyler, this is Brigadier Winifred Bambera and that's Colonel Yates. Yates, Bambera meet Rose. There. All done. Now, let's start narrowin' down the problem. What do we know that's different? What isn't right, Rose?"

"M' Dad's still alive." She lifted one finger.

He nodded. "That's one."

She held up another finger. "The Sontaran's 'ave invaded."

"Two."

"You're not 'ere."

"Three."

She was silent for a long moment before she shrugged helplessly. "I can't think of anythin' else."

"Right. Well, here's four: Alistair's dead. An' five: UNIT's moved out of London and is based here. Six: The Nestene Consciousness was stopped by UNIT." He turned toward Bambera and smiled. "This is where you come in, Bambera. What do you remember 'bout the last time we met?"

"I remember fighting Morgaine. You, Ace, and Alistair helped to stop her. We ended up gaining an ally – Ancelyn." Her expression turned bittersweet. "He was a good man."

Was. She said was. He keyed on that fact immediately. "Was?"

"Oh. He died on the battlefield. Don't you remember?" Bambera asked.

"Seven," he whispered. Ironic, that. Seventh incarnation, seventh difference. Which meant that the effects were spreading throughout all of his incarnations.

"Well, what about Prime Ministers? Maybe somethin's different there? Like, was Margaret Thatcher PM in the late eighties?" Rose asked.

Oh, that was a smart idea. He nodded his approval and she preened.

"Thatcher?" Yates repeated. He shook his head. "She was assassinated right before the election in '79, but she would've lost anyway. Healey was PM."

"By the IRA?" Rose asked.

"What's the IRA?" Yates asked, puzzled. "No. It was the Welsh Liberation Army. Blaidd Drwg assassinated several key leaders back then."

She blinked. "The who?"

"Eight and nine. What year did Alistair initially retire and who succeeded him?" he asked.

"1980 and Colonel Joyce." Yates replied.

Alistair had retired in 1979 and was succeeded by Colonel Crichton. "That's ten." He had to go back further. Before 1980. Something that only Yates would know. Ah. Of course. "Colonel, did we face a renegade Time Lord named 'The Master?'"

"Yes. A couple of times, from what I recall. First time he tried to bring in the Daleks. You and Jo stopped him by shutting off whatever radio frequency he was using to communicate with them."

"The Daleks?" It figured. "That's eleven."

Eleven differences. Eleven major differences in the time stream, which meant that the change was from even before his time with UNIT.

Possibly even before the turn of the current century.

"Can I borrow two of your history books? Got to narrow it down further." He pointed at two of the books on the shelves. Without bothering to wait for an answer, he grabbed one and tossed it to Rose. He picked up the other and, tucking it under his arm, he grinned. "Right, back to the TARDIS. Thanks, Brigadier."

"Doctor, wait!" Bambera protested, but he ignored her.

"Good luck with the Sontaran problem. Shouldn't be long 'fore it's sorted." He looked at Rose and grinned.

She looked somewhat resigned as he uttered his next word, "Run!"

So they did.

To be continued...