Hey guys!

It's been…nearly half a year since I updated this story. I know, I know. I just lost my passion for the writing I suppose. I wrote so much, so fast, that I hit a kind of writers block where I didn't want to touch any sort of writing at all.

But I've finished my fall semester and I've been picking up writing once again. And more importantly, I found my passion for this fandom again.

So here is the second to last chapter of this installment.

I hope 11,000 words is enough to make up for a 6 month hiatus? (No? yeah, I didn't think so. .)

PS. Hope everyone had a fantastic Holiday!

-RainingCoffee

The night passes uneventfully, and I finally get a chance to crash after being up nonstop for a week, though I honestly hadn't felt tired until everything calmed down. Must have been the anxiety over Amy and Rory keeping me going.

Speaking of Amy and Rory, the Doctor and I drop them off at a planet known for it's beaches and malls with a full credit chip and instructions to not cause any trouble.

And then it's just the Doctor and me, like it usually ends up being.

It's nice.

To spend time with this Doctor, that is.

There was a level of intimacy to a lot of my interactions with the Doctor, any Doctor, that was true. But this was the Doctor who put in the effort to get me to stay with him. I'd spent over a year of uninterrupted time with this man, and it showed with how comfortable I felt with him.

It wasn't all rainbows and sunshine either, we had little spats about things like leaving my toothbrush on the wrong side of the sink or how he wasn't able to cook anything other than breakfast food in this body. Little, stupid things. But infinitely precious.

And this time, I get to stay for months. Re-learning the in's and out's of this Doctor is fulfilling in a way I'd never considered getting to know someone might be. Plus, all those little things that I normally miss out on because I jump around so much, I'm able to experience them in an almost linear fashion. It's something that I tuck close to my heart.

But eventually, I have to leave. I feel the heat begin to build up along my feet after nearly three months of being here.

The Doctor notices immediately, eyes rising from the book he's reading.

This time, I don't really feel the bittersweet jumble of emotions that I had the last time I jumped. I'd spent a lot of time with this Doctor and I was content, if not happy to be jumping away.

"Don't forget to give me hell." The Doctor murmurs, his tone serious. "I'm definitely going to need it."

I quirk an eyebrow in confusion, but the world disintegrates around me before I can attempt to get anything else from him.

The world flows by me, a fog obscuring everything, and then I'm somewhere new. My hearing is the first thing to come back. I can hear the sounds of the Tardis console room, but I can't see it just yet.

Our connection cringes in pain again, but instead of slotting neatly into place with the Doctor of this time period it kind of just curls into itself?

I wince, headache already beating behind my eyes. Eyes which can finally see again. The console room doesn't really tell me much, I know it's either the 9th or the 10th Doctor I had jumped to, but the rooms were so similar that I'd be hard pressed to tell you which one I actually jumped to.

No one was there. The lights were even dimmed.

"Hey old girl, can you tell me where everyone is?" I murmur, touching the side of her console.

She hums, her front doors opening.

Outside huh. "Thanks dear."

The Tardis chimes, the sound happy. She's pleased to have helped in some way. But her hum changes when I take a step towards the door, more of a scold.

I look up, confused. "What?"

Her lights dim more, a series of lights along the trim at the bottom of the wall lighting up and creating a clear pathway for me to follow. What can I do but let her lead me?

The pathway ends at our bedroom, lights focusing on a dress on the top of our bed. It's a gorgeous Tardis blue, clearly Victorian in style.

I raise an eyebrow at the ceiling and get the equivalent of a raspberry in response.

Okay then.

For fear of being scolded again, I put the dress on. And twist my hair into some semblance of an updo. And brush just the slightest bit of makeup on.

All to make the Tardis happier of course.

She flickers the lights at that thought, but I just smirk.

Once finished, I head out in search of my wayward partner. It's not actually all that hard to find him, I just follow the screaming.

My feet thank me for picking sensible shoes as I start running towards the noise. There is a flash of blonde hair from around the corner, two people picking up an unresponsive third person.

That hair is familiar to me. In fact, I'm fairly certain it's Rose.

"Oi!" I shout, incensed. "Put that girl down!"

The man griping at Rose's shoulders sends me a panicked look, but doesn't stop what he's doing. Neither, for the matter, does the woman holding her legs.

I'm a fast runner, but even I'm not fast enough to get to the carriage before they manage to put her in it and start clopping away.

"Rose!" The Doctor yells, rushing out of the building next to me.

I point at the carriage that's steadily moving away from us. "She's in the hearse."

The Doctor glances at me, murmuring his thanks. His doubletake after that, is quite frankly, insulting. "Mabel?"

"Yes, hello Doctor. No time for catching up, companion in danger!" I narrow my eyes at his slack jawed expression.

A man comes out of the building, rounding on my partner. "You're not escaping me, sir. What do you know about that hobgoblin, hmm? Projection on glass, I suppose. Who put you up to it?"

The Doctor shakes his head, wide eyed expression disappearing. "Yeah, mate. Not now, thanks." He grabs my hand, rushing up to the carriage in front of us and addressing the driver. "Oi, you! Follow that hearse!"

"I can't do that, sir." The driver states, glancing behind us.

I narrow my eyes at him. "And why not?"

"I'll tell you why not." The man that was yelling at the Doctor earlier comes up, his temper in full force. "I'll give you a very good reason why not. Because this is my coach."

The Doctor gives him a blistering look. "Well get in then." The man doesn't do anything. "Move!"

And finally, the man does indeed move, jumping into the carriage at last. The driver cracks a whip, the horses responding to the sound instantly.

"Come on, you're losing them." The Doctor scolds.

The driver looks back uncertainly. "Everything in order, Mister Dickens?"

Wait.

Hold on a minute.

"No! It is not!" Dickens looks at the two of us suspiciously.

"Wait, hold on. Before you go on. Did he say Dickens?" I can't help but ask, leaning forward in interest.

Dickens frowns. "Yes?"

"Charles Dickens?" The Doctor reiterates.

"Yes." Charles Dickens responds, looking even less enthusiastic about us being in his carriage then he had before.

The Doctor shakes his head. "The Charles Dickens?"

"Should I remove them, sir?" The Driver asks, turning to look at us again.

"Charles Dickens?" The Doctor smiles, all big ears and enthusiasm. "You're brilliant, you are. Completely one hundred percent brilliant. I've read them all. Great Expectations, Oliver Twist and what's the other one, the one with the ghost?"

Dickens face, which had gotten increasingly friendlier as the Doctor talked, broke into a slight smile. "A Christmas Carol?"

"No, no, no, the one with the trains. The Signal Man, that's it." The Doctor leans back in his seat. "Terrifying! The best short story ever written. You're a genius."

"You want me to get rid of them, sir?" The driver asks again.

"Er, no," Dickens hesitates. "I think they can stay."

"As much as I'd love to keep talking about this, there are more important things to consider." I interject mildly, recognizing that look on the Doctor's face and wanting to stop it before it devolves into an epic ramble where he puts his foot in his mouth.

"Yes, you're right." The Doctor leans forward, raising his voice. "Faster!"

Dickens frowns, eye flickering between the two of us. "Who exactly is in that hearse?"

"Our friend. She's only nineteen." The Doctor pauses for a second. "It's my fault. She's in my care, and now she's in danger."

"Why are we wasting my time talking about dry old books? This is much more important." Dickens snaps, leaning forward immediately and raising his voice. "Driver, be swift! The chase is on!"

"Yes, sir!" The driver calls back, doing something to put on a burst of speed.

"Attaboy, Charlie." The Doctor smiles.

Dickens narrows his eyes at my wayward partner. "Nobody calls me Charlie."

The Doctor raises a disbelieving eyebrow in response. "The ladies do."

The two second pause before Dickens responds is enough to tell me the Doctor is right. "How do you know that?"

The Doctor shoots a cheeky grin in Dickens direction, before his eyes flicker in my direction. "I'm your number one fan."

"Number one fan?" Dickens mutters, frowning at the two of us.

Thankfully the carriage stops before I have to come up with another quick save. "It seems we're here."

Dickens jumps up immediately, opening the door. The Doctor follows before I can even manage to get to me feet. I'm really not used to wearing a dress like this and it clearly shows in how unpracticed I am with moving in one.

The Doctor is nice enough to wait for me though, offering a hand for me to use for help in exiting the carriage. It's help that I gladly take.

With said help, I'm out of the door and on my way up the short walkway to the house of the man who kidnapped our companion in less than a minute. I knock on the door with force, tapping a foot in impatience.

There is muffled conversation in the hallway beyond but I can't make out what exactly is being said. I can, however, clearly hear the quiet conversation behind me.

"Is she always like this?" Dickens asks, his voice low.

The Doctor laughs softly. "Oh yes."

The door opens before I get a chance to retaliate. A young woman stands in the doorway in a maid's garb. The woman also happens to be one of the people who had a hold of Rose earlier.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." The woman inclines her head in false deference. "We're closed."

Dickens pushes past me. "Nonsense. Since when did an Undertaker keep office hours? The dead don't die on schedule. I demand to see your master."

"He's not in, sir." The woman says, trying to close the door.

"Don't lie to me, child." Dickens scolds, hand smacking into the door to keep it open. "Summon him at once."

"I'm awfully sorry, Mister Dickens." The woman is visibly taken aback, though she manages to bounce back quick. "But the master's indisposed."

Behind her one of the light's flare up.

"Having trouble with your gas?" The Doctor chimes in.

"What the Shakespeare is going on?" Dickens mutters, staring at the gas lamp as well.

"That's a fantastic question." I murmur, stepping into the house and going up to the lamp. The Doctor is right behind me.

"You're not allowed inside, please-" The woman tries, but we both ignore her.

There's something there, a sort of whispering. I lean closer to the wall and sure enough the noise gets louder.

"The gas pipes." The Doctor's eyes find mine. "Something's living inside the gas."

Ominous, and somewhat creepy. I open my mouth to say that very thing, but a familiar voice interrupts me.

"Open the door!" Rose calls from somewhere farther into the house.

"That's her!" The Doctor says, probably to the others. I'm already halfway down the hallway, waiting for another noise to tell me the specific door.

A man, the man who I'd last seen holding onto Rose as he put her into a carriage, rounds the corner, hands coming up to stop me from going any further. "How dare you! This is my hou-"

I dodge him neatly, not even bothering with a comment. The last door on the left shakes, like someone is trying to open it. "Please, please, let me out!" The door handle is locked. The unpleasant man behind us probably has the key. "Let me out! Somebody open the door!"

Darting in front of me, the Doctor does one thing that I've never actually seen him do before.

He kicks in the door.

There is a man holding onto Rose, his hand over her mouth. I surge forward, grabbing her and stepping out of the way of the hands that reach out in retaliation. There is an old woman, and a young man. But they look strange.

"It's a prank. It must be." Dickens mutters behind us. "We're under some mesmeric influence."

"No, we're not. The dead are walking." The Doctor states, which what? He then turns to direct a smile Rose's way. "Hi."

"Hi." Rose murmurs, breathing a little harsh. She nods at me, her attention slipping behind me to find the others. "Who's your friend?"

"Charles Dickens." The Doctor answers without looking back at her.

Rose doesn't miss a beat. "Okay."

"My name's the Doctor." The Doctor states, directing the words to the apparently undead people in front of us. "Who are you, then? What do you want?"

"Failing." The man says. There is a haunting wail that follows his voice, like an aftereffect. Even as the aftereffect starts it coalesces into something that sounds remarkably like a child. "Open the rift. We're dying. Trapped in this form. Cannot sustain. Help us"

In unison, both the old woman and the young man arch their head towards the ceiling. This sort of unearthly wail emanates from nowhere as a blue light erupts from their bodies. It only lasts a second and when the blue light dissipates, the two bodies fall to the ground.

I exchange a rather wide eyed look of confusion with the Doctor. "That was new."

He smiles, eyes flashing. "But you can't deny it's interesting."

Fair enough, I have to give him that.

Dickens turns around, getting into the man who kidnapped Rose's face. "Are you going to explain any of this nonsense?"

The man puffs up like he's going to argue. Which, we can't really have that can we? "Yes, I'd like an explanation too. As well as an apology for our friend that you kidnapped."

The woman who was wearing a maid's outfit neatly takes control of the situation. "If you would all retire to the sitting room, I'll make a pot of tea and you can discuss the issue there."

The master of the house deflates. "Oh, alright. Follow me."

So we do, following him down the hallway to a room right off the entrance way. Several gas fixtures flicker slightly as we move by. The flame reacting to us walking by? Or maybe whatever it was in the gas pipes that the Doctor mentioned earlier?

There isn't exactly time to think about that though, at least not without more facts.

"Now really Mr. Sneed, I must insist that you tell us what's going on at once." Dickens states, crossing his arms and glaring through his facial hair.

Sneed slumps down into an armchair. "Can we not wait for the tea?"

The two bicker back and forth, but I'm not as focused on the conversation as I probably should be. My headache is still there, and the longer I go separated from the Doctor the worse it's gotten. Is this what my partner goes through every time I'm not here? If so, I suddenly feel a hundred times worse for teasing bow tie about missing me for a week.

The Doctor frowns down at me. "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing." I murmur, shaking my head slightly. "Just a headache."

For a second, the lines around his eyes deepen in confusion, but then his whole being jolts. Our connection lights up, the Doctor's side open once again.

My headache immediately disappears, and I can't help but close my eyes briefly in relief.

By the time I open them again the Doctor in giving me one of those looks. The one that says I'm about to get a lecture. He opens his mouth and –"Mabel! You should have told me to open up!"

I shrug, somewhat immune to his scolding at this point. "I didn't know if you had it closed for a reason."

"For a reason? No-I just.." The Doctor loses some of his righteous steam. "I'm not entirely used to the fact that you're here again."

Oh Doctor. I lean against his shoulder, trying to send as much support and affection as I can. Sometimes it really sucks that he has to keep information from me to protect the timeline. I know that this regeneration had just come from a war but that was about it. He refuses to say anything more whenever I ask him, and I didn't feel that it was my right to push that.

But there wasn't time to get into deep personal issues anyways. Rose, who was visibly fuming, finally erupts. She whirls around, pointing a finger at..I think Dickens said his name was Sneed? "And you, I have a bone to pick with you!"

Sneed leans back, looking almost comically offended. "Now look here young l-"

"First of all you drug me, then you kidnap me." Rose snaps, cutting him off. "And don't think I didn't feel your hands having a quick wander, you dirty old man."

"I won't be spoken to like this!" Sneed puffs up, trying to look angry. It's easy to see that he's just scared.

Rose is on a roll though, and pays no attention to his bluster. "Then you stuck me in a room full of zombies! And if that ain't enough, you swan off and leave me to die! So come on, talk!"

"It's not my fault." Sneed snaps back, sour look deepening. "It's this house. It always had a reputation. Haunted. But I never had much bother until a few months back, and then the stiffs, the er, dear departed started getting restless."

"Tommyrot." Dickens scoffs.

Sneed shakes his head. "You witnessed it. Can't keep the beggars down, sir. They walk. And it's the queerest thing, but they hang on to scraps."

Gwyneth comes over and places two cups of tea on the mantelpiece beside us. "Two sugars sir, a sugar and a cream ma'am, just how the two of you like it."

I smile at her, somewhat bemused. A quick glance at the Doctor shows that he's likely thinking the same thing that I am. She shouldn't know our tea preferences.

"One old fellow who used to be a sexton almost walked into his own memorial service." Sneed nods as if the gesture will further emphasize his words. "Just like the old lady going to your performance, sir, just as she planned."

"Morbid fancy." Dickens scoffs.

"Oh, Charles." The Doctor shakes his head. "You were there."

Dickens sniffs, standing up and taking a step closer to the Doctor. "I saw nothing but an illusion."

"If you're going to deny it, don't waste my time. Just shut up." The Doctor tells him, apparently not having the patience to deal with the man. How quickly one goes from fanboying to dismissing.

It's clear that Dickens is offended, if the way he puffs up is any indication. Time to head this off before they pull out their dicks and start to measure. "The Doctor is right, something is obviously happening here. Sneed, anything else you can tell us. What about the gas? It was flickering in a strange way earlier."

"That's new ma'am, I've never seen anything like that." Sneed tells me, Victorian manners assuring I get a polite response.

The Doctor hmms. "Means it's getting stronger, the rift's getting wider and something's sneaking through."

Rose looks between us. "What's the rift?"

I shrug, but the Doctor answers her. "A weak point in time and space. A connection between this place and another." He shrugs as well. "That's the cause of ghost stories, most of the time."

"That's how I got the house so cheap. Stories going back generations." Sneed nods, turning towards the Doctor.

Dickens has had enough of being ignored it seems, as he sidles his way out of the room. Though like a child throwing a tantrum, he makes sure to slam the door behind him.

Sneed flinches slightly, but continues. "Echoes in the dark, queer songs in the air, and this feeling like a shadow passing over your soul." His expression changes then, becomes something a little less meek. "Mind you, truth be told, it's been good for business. Just what people expect from a gloomy old trade like mine."

I can't help but smile at that. Maybe Sneed is all right after all.

"I'm going to head off after Charles, talk to him." The Doctor murmurs. The words are low, and it's very likely that no one else can hear them. "Stay here, keep an eye on things."

"Got it." There isn't much else to say honestly, and I don't mind staying with the girls and Sneed. Maybe I can find out something about Gwyneth in the process.

Unfortunately, right after the Doctor leaves to go after Dickens, Rose and Gwyneth break off as well. I now have a choice between leaving Sneed alone or going after the girls. And to be honest, I like the girls much better then Sneed.

So I follow the girls.

Gwyneth leads us to a small room that seems to be a pantry, though I see that it also doubles as a cleaning area if the small tub of water in the corner is any indication. The girl lights one of the gas lights, while Rose goes over to the wash bucket.

And because it's Rose, she picks up the washcloth to start cleaning the dishes. I'm starting to like this companion, at least from what I've seen of her.

"Please, miss, you shouldn't be helping." Gwyneth hurries over to the basin herself. "It's not right."

"Don't be daft. Sneed works you to death." Rose laughs. But Gwyneth is serious and after a few seconds Rose seems to get that, and she gives Gwyneth the washcloth.

Rose shifts, seemingly uncomfortable now that she doesn't have anything in her hands. "So, how much do you get paid?"

"Rose!" I scold, standing straight from the wall I had been leaning on while watching them interact. "Don't be rude."

"It's fine ma'am. I don't mind." Gwyneth states, a pleased smile twitching at the corner of her lips. "Mr. Sneed pays me eight pound a year, miss."

Rose, who had slumped at my scold, regains some of her energy to gape at Gwyneth. "How much?"

"I know." Gwyneth leans in a bit. "I would've been happy with six."

"So long as you're content with it, that's all the matters." I tell her before Rose can say anything else. Gwyneth nods, turning back to the basin to start washing the dishes again. "If you don't mind though, is it okay if I ask you a question?"

"Of course ma'am." Gwyneth states, finishing her dish and turning to me expectantly.

"You knew exactly how the Doctor and I took our tea." I state, and watch closely as Gwyneth faces closes down, her whole body kind of hunching in on itself. "I'm not mad Gwyneth, I just wanted to know if you could tell me how you knew."

"I can't help it ma'am. Ever since I was a little girl, my mam said I had the sight. She told me to hide it." Gwyneth tells me, shaking her head like she can somehow change it.

"Hey, it's okay. Sounds like you have a gift." I smile at the girl, but she shakes her head once again.

"I see so much ma'am." Gwyneth focuses on me, a new strength in her eyes. "A city, like I've never seen before. I seen pictures of London, but what I see in you is nothing like that."

She's seeing the modern day world, I realize with a start. The Doctor touches up against my mind, a question in his emotions. I send back a wave of what I hope is 'everything is okay', as well as a healthy dose of caution.

He sends back what is most assuredly an eye roll, and a sense of frustrated amusement. It couldn't have been any clearer that he was saying 'why is it always you?'.

"But that's not all." Gwyneth continues. Her Victorian manners have taken a backseat it seems. "There are worlds in your mind that can't be possible. With creatures that shouldn't exist. And then there is you. You shouldn't exist in this world."

This…is not the first time someone has said this to me. "What do you mean I shouldn't exist?"

Gwyneth tilts her head to the side, studying me. It's almost as if it isn't her looking at me anymore, but someone else. "There are many worlds, this is just one of them. But you were not originally from this world. They made it so you were, though. Changed the very fabric of reality to make sure you existed."

"Gwyneth, how do you know this?" I'm unsettled now, deeply unsettled. The words she is speaking are true, the atoms in the air are humming with it. "I thought you could only see what was in my mind?" Cause I don't know what she is speaking about.

But it seems as if whatever was using Gwyneth to speak is no longer using her. She frowns, one hand coming up to cradle her face as if she has a headache. "Sorry ma'am, I missed what you just said."

The Doctor comes into the room at a fast walk, eyes flickering to me to see what was wrong. I shake my head, not wanting to get into it right now. "You were just explaining about your gift. The one that let's you see things that most people can't."

"Like I said ma'am, I've had it all my life." Gwyneth states, looking down at the ground.

"The tea." The Doctor states more than asks, I nod slightly. He focuses back on Gwyneth. "But it's getting stronger, more powerful, is that right?"

Gwyneth nods. Her hand comes up and taps against her head. "All the time, sir. Every night, voices in my head."

"You grew up on top of the rift." The Doctor states. I can feel him cobbling a plan together. "You're part of it. You're the key."

"I've tried to make sense of it, sir." She continues, almost ashamed now. "Consulted with spiritualists, table rappers, all sorts."

"Well, that should help. You can show us what to do." The Doctor tells her.

Show us what to do? He isn't thinking of doing what I think he's going to do is he?

Gwyneth frowns at him. "What to do where, sir?"

The Doctor smiles, all teeth. "We're going to have a séance."

My face does something odd, I can feel it. "A séance?"

"Don't give me that look!" The Doctor pouts. Pouts! He's a grown man for god's sake.

I raise an eyebrow. "And just what is a séance going to do?"

The Doctor shoo's us out of the room. "Hopefully it'll let us talk to whoever we were talking to earlier so we can get some answers."

It seems as if he's already gathered everyone anyways, as Sneed and Dickens wait for us around a table in the dining room.

"Alright! Time to get this show on the road." The Doctor claps his hands, going to sit down in one of the chairs. I sit next to him, and Rose takes the one next to me. Gwyneth sits at the only space left.

Dickens frowns out at the table. "What show?"

"This is how Madam Mortlock summons those from the Land of Mists, down in big town." Gwyneth states, ignoring his question. I have a feeling that the need to get answers is overpowering her need to be polite. "Come, we must all join hands."

He must finally clue into what is about to happen, because Dickens sputters, standing up from his chair. "I can't take part in this."

The Doctor rolls his eyes. "Humbug? Come on, open mind."

"This is precisely the sort of cheap mummery I strive to unmask." Dickens hisses, puffing up like a bird. " Séances? Nothing but luminous tambourines and a squeeze box concealed between the knees." He gestures at Gwyneth. "This girl knows nothing."

"I'd watch your tone." I tell him, my voice gone cold. "You might not want to believe in this, but that girl has done nothing to deserve your harsh words. Or your slights to her gender."

Dickens gapes at me, turning to look at the Doctor as if that will change anything.

The Doctor raises his hands in supplication. "Now don't look at me like that, I happen to agree with her." But he does send a wave of emotion that would roughly translate to 'down girl' in my direction. "However, we have a séance to get to, so I wouldn't antagonize Gwyneth. Happy Mediums are better than angry mediums."

Rose shakes her head. "I can't believe you just said that."

The Doctor give her a smile, before focusing on Dickens once more. "Come on now, we might need you."

He lets out a deep breath of air, but Dickens sits once again, joining hands with Gwyneth on one side and Sneed on the other.

"Good man." The Doctor tells him, then turns to Gwyneth. "Now, Gwyneth, reach out."

Gwyneth takes a deep breath of her own. "Speak to us." The gas lights behind her start to flicker. And very faintly, I can almost hear the whispers again. "Are you there? Spirits, come. Speak to us that we may relieve your burden."

"Can you hear that?" Rose murmurs, looking around the table. She must be able to hear the whispers now too.

"Nothing can happen." Dickens scoffs, leaning in. "This is sheer folly."

But he's wrong. Gwyneth has tilted her head back now. It's clear she's focusing on something that no one else can see.

Rose must notice what I'm seeing, because she gestures at Gwyneth. "Look at her!"

"I see them." Gwyneth states, rocking back and forth slightly. "I feel them."

Gas starts to pull away from the lanterns. The blue streaks dance through the air, bringing with them more whispers.

It's saying something, whatever it is, something about a rift.

"What's it saying?" Rose asks, glancing at the Doctor.

"They can't get through the rift." He replies, immediately turning to face Gwyneth. "Gwyneth, it's not controlling you, you're controlling it. Now, look deep. Allow them through."

"I can't!" Gwyneth cries, still staring up at the gas.

"Yes, you can. Just believe it. I have faith in you, Gwyneth. Make the link." The Doctor insists. And I of all people know just what the Doctor's belief can drive you to.

Gwyneth nods. "Yes." She closes her eyes, and when she next opens them her posture is completely different.

This is not Gwyneth anymore. The blue figures that coalesce behind her only further corroborate that.

"Great God!" Sneed exclaims, looking frightened. "Spirits from the other side."

The Doctor smiles. "The other side of the universe." He turns that smile on me then, but I am only able to give him a weak one in return.

I don't like this situation. Something doesn't feel right.

"Pity us." Gwyneth speaks, but her voice is layered with the voice of children. "Pity the Gelth. There is so little time. Help us."

"What do you want us to do?" The Doctor asks. He's not suspicious at all, I can feel that he isn't.

"The rift. Take the girl to the rift." The Gelth murmurs. "Make the bridge."

"What do you need a bridge for?" I ask, since no one else seems to find anything odd with this.

The Gelth turn to face me, and just for a second, a split second, their whole form flickers red. "We are so very few. The last of our kind. We face extinction."

"Why?" The Doctor cuts in. "What happened?"

"Once we had a physical form like you, but then the war came." The Gelth states, turning back to the Doctor.

There is a pang, from the part of me connected to the Doctor.

"War?" Dickens frowns. "What war?"

"The Time War." The Gelth answer. Of course. What other war would they be talking about. "The whole universe convulsed. The Time War raged. Invisible to smaller species but devastating to higher forms. Our bodies wasted away. We're trapped in this gaseous state."

The Doctor leans in, hooked. "So that's why you need the corpses." I can tell with the way his entire focus is on them that he's going to do everything in his power to make this happen.

But something isn't right. And he isn't seeing that.

"Just how many corpses would you need?" I interject, eyes focused on the Gelth.

This time they don't even bother turning to face me, they just continue talking to the Doctor as if I hadn't said anything. "We want to stand tall, to feel the sunlight, to live again. We need a physical form, and your dead are abandoned. They're going to waste. Give them to us."

"But we can't." Rose states, so certain in her claim.

The Doctor turns to look at her. "Why not?"

"It's not." Rose hesitates, shaking her head. "I mean, it's not-"

"Not decent? Not polite?" The Doctor asks, derision in his voice, and in his emotions. "It could save their lives."

"Before we do anything, we need more information on this." I speak up, not liking the situation. It smells like a trap, but the Doctor doesn't seem to be picking up on it.

"Open the rift. Let the Gelth through. We're dying. Help us. Pity the Gelth." The blue form speaks one last time before fading back into Gwyneth. She slumps onto the table, unconscious.

Rose rises from her seat, placing a hand on Gwyneth's shoulder. "Gwyneth?"

"All true." Dickens mutters, sitting back in his seat. "It's all true."

The Doctor meets my eyes with his own, mind already set. I purse my lip but let it go, for now.

Gwyneth doesn't seem to be waking up so once everyone has gotten over their shock, we move her to the chaise lounge, away from the table.

"We need her to open up the pathway again." The Doctor states, getting up to pace.

Rose looks up from patting a wet washcloth across Gwyneth's forehead, a glare on her face. "Leave her alone, she hasn't even woken up from the first time yet."

But Gwyneth is awake now, eyes flickering open.

"It's all right." Rose tells her, gently pushing at her chest so that she will stay laying down. "You just sleep."

"But my angels, miss." Gwyneth protests, her voice weak. "They came, didn't they? They need me?"

"They do need you, Gwyneth." The Doctor jumps in immediately. "You're they're only chance of survival."

"We don't know if it's the only way. We haven't checked if there are other ways yet." I cut in, voice sharp.

Rose seems to be with me on this one, turning to glare at the Doctor once again. "I've told you, leave her alone. She's exhausted and she's not fighting your battles." She turns back to Gwyneth, placing a glass of something in her hand. "Drink this."

The Doctor rolls his eyes, his frustration beating against the weak barriers of my mind.

"Well, what did you say, Doctor?" Sneed asks. "You said they were visitors from the other side of the universe. But how. Explain it again. What are they?"

"Aliens." The Doctor responds, the word sharp and tense.

Sneed tilts his head in confusion. "Like foreigners, you mean?"

The Doctor nods, some of his frustration falling away in exchange for what I call his teaching voice. "Pretty foreign, yeah." He says, pointing up at the ceiling. "From up there."

"Brecon?" Sneed asks him.

…Well I suppose you can't expect a man from the 1800's to get the concept of aliens being from outer space on the first try.

"Close." The Doctor replies, the liar. "And they've been trying to get through from Brecon to Cardiff but the road's blocked. Only a few can get through and even then they're weak. They can only test drive the bodies for so long, then they have to revert to gas and hide in the pipes."

"Which is why they need the girl." Dickens states. He is turning out to be quite the intuitive man.

"They're not having her." Rose interjects, her chin going up in defiance. Gwyneth has found a good protector in this companion it seems.

The Doctor takes a deep breath. "But she can help. Living on the rift, she's become part of it. She can open it up, make a bridge and let them through."

"Incredible." Dickens laughs, looking bemused. "Ghosts that are not ghosts but beings from another world, who can only exist in our world by inhabiting cadavers."

"It's a good system. It might even work." The Doctor nods, ignoring the incredulity of everyone in the room.

"You can't let them run around inside of dead people." Rose states, looking upset.

"Why not? It's like recycling." The Doctor replies, his tone flippant.

His emotions on the other hand, are anything but. He's seriously wanting to do this.

Rose rolls her eyes. "Seriously though, you can't."

The Doctor's voice loses some of its flippancy. "Seriously though, I can."

"It's just wrong." Rose hesitates. I nod at her from around the Doctor's shoulder and she seems to gain some of her confidence back. "Those bodies were living people. We should respect them even in death."

"Do you carry a donor card?" The Doctor asks her, voice sharp now.

"That's different." Rose states. "That's-"

"It is different, yeah. It's a different morality." The Doctor cuts in, no hint of sympathy in his face. "Get used to it or go home."

"And that's quite enough of that." I interject, not liking the way that Rose recoils from him.

He turns to me, already shaking his head. "No, not a word out of you either. You're too young to understand properly."

It stings, those words, somewhere deep inside of me. But I promised to try, so instead of recoiling myself, I take a step forward into the Doctor personal space. He isn't expecting it, and I can see a hint of something other than apathy in his expression for the first time the entire conversation. "Leave my age out of this, just because you don't want someone to argue with you doesn't mean that you get to lash out and hit at places that you know will hurt."

"We don't have time to argue." The Doctor responds, rolling his eyes. "You heard what they said, time's short. I can't worry about a few corpses when the last of the Gelth could be dying."

"This practically tastes like a trap." I hiss, fed up with the whole thing. Let him listen to me or not, at least I got a chance to warn him. "I don't know why you aren't cluing into that, but it does."

The Doctor sighs, reaching out and cupping my head with his hands. "Mabel, it's not a trap. It's just someone who needs help."

"I don't care. They're not using her." Rose lifts her chin in defiance.

"Don't I get a say, miss?" Gwyneth speaks up, her decision already written all over her face.

I close my eyes against it, stepping back from the Doctor's touch. It's somewhat a startling realization, that even though the Doctor is open and I can perceive his emotions, his mind is entirely closed off to me. I can't tell why he's making these decisions.

By the time I focus back into the conversation, Gwyneth has already stated her intent to open the bridge once more and the Doctor is bustling us all off to the morgue. Something about it being the weakest area between our location and wherever the Gelth are being held in the rift.

It takes less than a minute for us to reach the room. The sight of the dead bodies resting under stark white sheets is unsettling, just like the dark atmosphere of the morgue itself.

"Urgh. Talk about Bleak House." The Doctor looks around the room with a theatrical shudder.

"The thing is, Doctor, the Gelth don't succeed, 'cos I know they don't. I know for a fact there weren't corpses walking around in 1869." Rose tries again.

"Time's in flux, changing every second. Your cozy little world can be rewritten like that." The Doctor snaps his fingers. "Nothing is safe. Remember that. Nothing."

So charming.

"The Doctor is right. If the Gelth come through now it can rewrite history as you know it." I explain, patting her shoulder. She gives me a wide eyed look in return.

"Doctor, I think the room is getting colder." Dickens states, looking around the room nervously.

And he's right. The gas coalesces once again, blue streaks darting across the room. A large cloud of it manifests under an archway, forming the human like form like it had earlier.

"You've come to help. Praise the Doctor." The Gelth states, its voice is still that of a young child. "Praise him."

"Promise you won't hurt her." Rose demands. She's fierce as a lion.

The Gelth ignores her. "Hurry! Please, so little time. Pity the Gelth."

"Doctor." I murmur, grabbing his hand to stop him from moving forward. "I don't like this."

He squeezes my hand in return, placing a kiss on my knuckles before stepping forward like I hadn't been trying to stop him from doing it. "I'll take you somewhere else after the transfer." The Doctor tells the Gelth. "Somewhere you can build proper bodies. This isn't a permanent solution, all right?"

"My angels." Gwyneth smiles. "I can help them live."

The Doctor nods at her. "Okay, where's the weak point?"

"Here, beneath the arch." The Gelth states.

Gwyneth hurries over, standing right underneath the manifestation of the Gelth.

Rose takes a step forward. "You don't have to do this."

"They are my angels, miss." Gwyneth tells her.

"Establish the bridge." The Gelth insist. "Reach out to the void. Let us through!"

"Yes, I can see you." Gwyneth cries, head tilting back once more. "I can see you. Come!"

The Gelth smiles, or what I assume is a smile. "Bridgehead establishing."

"Come to me. Come to this world, poor lost souls!" Gwyneth continues.

"It is begun. The bridge is made." The Gelth cries, triumph in its childlike voice.

Gwyneth opens her mouth, and streams of blue gas pour out. There is a look of surprise there, of fear, before the expression is wiped away into blankness.

Something twangs, in the back of my mind. Something has been broken. I have a horrible idea that it's Gwyneth.

"Gwyneth?" I call out, leaning forward.

A sort of malevolent glee transfers through the air from the Gelth. "She has given herself to the Gelth. The bridge is open. We descend."

Dammit.

Dammit, dammit, dammit. Why did I have to be right?

The blue glow of the Gelth deepens, turning a strange red color. Even it's voice changes, losing the tone of a child and gaining something deeper. And more sinister. "The Gelth will come through in force."

Dickens shakes his head. "You said that you were few in number."

"A few billion." One would think that a disembodied voice wouldn't be able to sneer, but it comes across clear as day. "And all of us in need of corpses."

There is a pang of hurt from the part of my mind dedicated to the Doctor, but I don't have time to address it right now.

"Gwyneth, stop this." Sneed tries, taking a step towards the girl in the arch. "Listen to your master. This has gone far enough. Stop dabbling, child, and leave these things alone, I beg of you-"

I lunge for him, already seeing the Gelth in a human suit coming up from behind him, but I'm to late. The corpse snaps the man's neck before I get within two feet of him. Immediately, another Gelth pours itself into Sneed's mouth. The man gets up, the same otherworldly cast over his features that the other cadavers seem to take on when a Gelth take them over.

"I think it's gone a little bit wrong." The Doctor states.

"You think?" I mutter under my breath. A quick step backwards is joined by another, and another as the Gelth advance on us.

"I have joined the legions of the Gelth." The Gelth in Sneed's body tells us. "Come, march with us."

Dickens shakes his head. "No, this isn't happening."

"I suggest you keep out of their reach if you don't want to end up like Sneed, Mr. Dickens." I tell the man, making sure to follow my own advice. Dickens hugs the outside of the room, inching his way towards the door.

Smart man.

"We need bodies. All of you. Dead. The human race. Dead." Sneed continues.

"Gwyneth, stop them! Send them back now!" The Doctor tries.

He tries, but it doesn't work.

"Three more bodies. Convert them. Make them vessels for the Gelth." The main Gelth, the one in the archway, instructs.

Sneed's body starts walking towards the Doctor, Rose and I, we take steps back in return until our backs hit a wall. It's clear that we are the ones to be converted.

From across the room, Dickens shakes his head. "I can't. I'm sorry. This new world of yours is too much for me. I'm so-" But he doesn't finish, darting out of the open door to his right.

Well, at least one of us is going to get out of here alive.

The Doctor turns around, facing the wall, which doesn't seem to actually be a wall at all actually. It's a gate, and he quickly opens it so we can go through.

The bad news is that it's just a gate to a side room and not a way out. But, I think as I slam the gate closed behind us, at least the Gelth won't be able to snap our necks this way.

"Give yourself to glory. Sacrifice your lives for the Gelth." The Gelth state.

All the bodies in the morgue have risen up now, collecting around the outside of the gate, theirs arms reaching through like one of those zombie horror movies.

"I trusted you." The Doctor snarls. "I pitied you!"

"We don't want your pity." All the bodies say as one. "We want this world and all it's flesh."

"Yeah well, you're going to have to go through me first." I tell them.

"And me." The Doctor states, hand reaching down to clasp mine.

I link our fingers, squeezing his hand hard.

The Gelth snarl. "Then live no more."

"But I can't die." Rose states, her voice rising when neither of us say anything. "Tell me I can't. I haven't even been born yet. It's impossible for me to die. Isn't it?"

"I'm sorry Rose, it doesn't work that way." I tell her, voice as gentle as I can make it.

The Doctor slumps beside me, his large frame hunching in on itself. "I'm so sorry."

"But it's 1869." Rose looks at me, then at Doctor. "How can I die now?"

"Time isn't a straight line. It can twist into any shape. You can be born in the twentieth century and die in the nineteenth and it's all my fault." The Doctor murmurs. "I brought you here."

Rose shakes her head, clearly not pleased, but in the end not taking it out on us. "It's not your fault. I wanted to come."

The Doctor turns to me. "I'm sorry Mabel, I brought you into this."

"Eh." I scoff into his face, taking an inordinate amount of pleasure from the way he blinks at me in confusion. "I choose my own fate, don't put my decisions on you. I made the choice to follow you, even if it led me to my death."

"But this is not where you're supposed to die." He closes his eyes against whatever he sees in my face. "I've changed everything by this."

"It's not just dying though." Rose states, determinedly looking forwards. "We'll become one of them."

"If they succeed in killing us, probably yes." I turn to look at her, my lips tilting up into a half smile despite myself.

She matches my half smile with one of her own. "Well, I'm not going to take that lying down."

I reach out, taking her hand in my free one. "Going out fighting then?"

"Of course." Rose answers, facing the Gelth once more.

There are footsteps from the hallway, fast ones. I frown over at the Doctor and he nods. He hears them too it seems.

Then, to my surprise, Dickens runs into the room. "Doctor! Doctor! Turn off the flame, turn up the gas! Now, fill the room, all of it, now!"

"What're you doing?" The Doctor asks in disbelief.

Dickens lunges for the gas lantern against the wall, turning it off until the flame goes out and then turning it back on so the gas is still flooding the room. "Turn it all on. Flood the place!"

"Brilliant." The Doctor breathes. "Gas."

"What's brilliant?" I ask, eyes flickering between the Gelth at the door who are slowly turning to face Dickens and the man at my side.

"Doesn't seem brilliant to me, what, we choke to death instead?" Rose scoffs, frowning at the Doctor's growing smile.

"Am I correct, Doctor? These creatures are gaseous." Dickens states, bringing up a handkerchief to cover his mouth as he coughs.

"Fill the room with gas, it'll draw them out of the host." The Doctor explains, his smile all teeth. "Suck them into the air like poison from a wound! Good job Charlie boy!"

The corpses approach Dickens, and he takes a nervous step backwards. "I hope, oh Lord, I hope that this theory will be validated soon, if not immediately."

"Oh there's plenty more where that came from." The Doctor states, taking his hand from mine to rip a pipe out of the wall. More gas immediately fills the room, direct from the source as it were.

The bodies immediately stop moving, and an ethereal scream fills the room. The Gelth are being drawn from the dead bodies! It's working!

"It's working." Dickens nods, coughing into his handkerchief again. He looks pleased.

Now that the dead bodies aren't walking around it's safe to open the gate back up. I'm the first one out, but the Doctor and Rose follow right after me.

The Doctor stops in front of Gwyneth. "Gwyneth, send them back. They lied. They're not angels."

"Liars?" She asks, voice faint.

"Look at me. If your mother and father could look down and see this, they'd tell you the same. They'd give you the strength. Now send them back!" The Doctor insists.

Rose coughs from behind us, another following right after. "I can't breathe."

The Doctor gives her a nudge towards Dickens. "Charles, get her out."

But Rose shakes off the hand on her shoulder immediately. "No, I'm not leaving her."

"Rose, I have it." I tell her. She frowns at me for several long seconds, then nods. I look at Dickens. "Get her out of her, please."

Dickens nods at me, hand curling around Rose's arm, and then the two of them are gone from the room.

"They're too strong." Gwyneth states, staring at us without blinking. In fact, I haven't seen her blink once since she entered the archway. And I haven't seen her chest rise and fall with breath either.

I've seen a lot of things since I first started traveling with the Doctor but tragedy like this still brings with it the sting of tears to my eyes. "Gwyneth, I'm so sorry. But you're going to have to try. Remember that city you saw in my mind, that was so different from anything you've seen before? None of that will be there if you don't send the Gelth back."

There is a pause. "I can't send them back. But I can hold them. Hold them in this place, hold them here." She slowly pulls something out of her pocket, it's a box of matches. "Get out. Leave this place!"

The Doctor reaches out a hand for the matches. "Come on, leave that to me."

He doesn't get it yet, what I think I've known since the Gelth descended. "Doctor, let her do it."

"I need to do something." He snarls, like a wounded animal. "I-This was my fault, I pushed this. I need to fix it somehow."

Absolutely done and fed up with his behavior, I grab his collar, making him turn to face me. "No, you've made a right mess of this. Now I'm going to fix it."

The Doctor doesn't move.

"Go." I enunciate clearly, letting go of his collar at least and pushing him towards the door. "NOW."

And he finally goes. A ball of guilt and frustration and regret. But I'll deal with that later. Turning to Gwyneth, I bow my head in apology. "I'm sorry I didn't try hard enough to stop it."

Gwyneth doesn't respond, but then I didn't really expect her to.

I straighten, reaching out and squeezing her hand. "Thank you."

And then I'm gone too, rushing my way up the stairs, down the hallway, just making it through the doorway before the whole house goes up in flames. The shockwave from the explosion slams into my back and I'm sure I would have fallen, were it not for the Doctor steadying me.

"Where's Gwyneth?" He asks, urgent. "Why did you leave her there?" I take a moment to steady myself, which I guess is a moment to much. The Doctor shakes me a little by the grip he has on my arms. "You said you'd handle it!"

"And I did!" I yell back, yanking myself back from his hold. "I guess you weren't paying attention, but Gwyneth died the moment the Gelth used her as a doorway to this world."

"But-" Rose hesitates as both of our attention focuses itself on her. "But she was talking to us."

I tilt my head back to look up at the stars, thinking about everything that's happened since I'd first been dragged into this world. So many things that I'd thought impossible, suddenly possible. "The world is a bigger place that we know."

"There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Dickens murmurs.

"She saved the world." Rose says, looking at the flames that are slowly eating away of what's left of the funeral home. "A servant girl. No one will ever know."

"We will." I turn to look at her. "We will remember, and in our memory she will live on."

Silence descends then, a silence for the brave girl who only wanted to help her angels. And who ultimately saved the world.

"Well then, what is to happen now?" Dickens murmurs, shifting uncomfortably when everyone turns to look at him.

I glance over at my partner, and his blank face, then at Rose who looks exhausted. "I think it's time for us to go home."

"Right, Right, I'll just walk with you then." Dickens states. I can feel his determination to not be left behind. It must have been quite a shock to have your world view turned around in such a way.

So instead of telling him no, I nod, then start walking back in the direction I remember the Tardis being in. It's a decent walk, nearly 30 minutes of it. And I end up giving up my wrap to cover Rose's shoulders when her shivering gets to be to much.

All the while, Dickens is chattering on. I must admit, I'm not exactly paying all that much attention to what he's saying. Though it doesn't seem he needs much of my actual attention, a faint affirmative or nod of the head and he's off on another topic.

But finally we reach the Tardis, and say our goodbyes. I even set it up so that Dickens can watch us dematerialize, that should give him a kick.

"Doesn't that change history, if he writes about blue ghosts?" Rose asks.

Oh, was that part of what he was talking about then, writing about what happened?

"In a week's time it's 1870, and that's the year he dies." The Doctor states, tone void of emotion. "He'll never get to tell his story."

"Oh, no. He was so nice." Rose murmurs, a slight frown on her face.

"But you got to see him alive." I tell her, a mischievous smile on my face. "More alive then he seemed to have been for a while I would wager. Isn't that something?"

Rose smiles back at me, eyes lighting up. "Yeah, it really is."

"But, I think it's time to get changed out of these dresses. I like the fashion, but they can be really impractical." I tease, shooing her down the hallway. "You know where the wardrobe is, and if you get lost the Tardis will help."

"But." Rose's smile fades as she glances at the cloud of negativity that is the Doctor. "Are you sure?"

"I know what I'm doing." I assure her, though I really don't. I just don't want her to be here if he boils over.

She gives me a long look, searching for something. Rose must find it because she nods, turning on her heel and walking down the hallway deeper into the Tardis.

I turn to look at my partner, and his shoulders hunch like he can feel my gaze.

Determined not to talk it seems, the Doctor starts to fiddle with the Tardis controls, flicking a lever back and forth until even the Tardis gets annoyed with him. There is a sharp whine, and I'm not surprised to hear a muffled curse that follows.

I sigh, but go over to see what he managed to hurt.

"Are you sure she was dead?" He asks me, emotions coalescing into something sharp and bitter. "Did you check to make sure?"

"I know when someone's dead." I tell him, biting back the words that I know will hurt him the most. I'm trying not to escalate this tonight.

The Doctor flinches, as if he can still hear them, before rallying once again. "If you didn't check, then how do you know. She could have still been alive."

His words are plaintive, like he needs the answer to be that the girl didn't die because he was focused on something else.

That's…not something that I'm going to be able to let him pretend about though. "Doctor-"

"Why didn't you stop it?" The Doctor interjects, rounding on me. His expression is accusing. "I know you didn't agree, you hated the plan. So why didn't you stop me?"

I stare at him, keeping my expression as even as I can. But I can't stop the curl of my disappointment. He feels it, I know he can, but it doesn't seem to stop him. If anything, it seems to make him even more upset.

"Are you not going to say anything?" He demands.

Tilting my head, I let him wait. For 5 seconds, then 10. "Are you finished?"

The Doctor blinks at me. "Finished?"

"Finished acting like a two year old who doesn't like the outcome of the situation." I clarify, watching his face pinch with anger.

"Says the woman who runs when things get hard." He responds, the words like a punch to the gut.

The urge to cut myself off from him is almost overwhelming. He's right, I want to hide. I want to run, and I want this conversation to be over. But I can't right now, and it has nothing to do with pride. "Is that what want? A verbal punching bag?" I lean forward. "Would that make you feel better, having someone to take it out on?"

The Doctor scoffs. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"Yes." I answer simply. "I don't really know why you carry the oppressive guilt around, I've tried asking and you brush me off with a sad smile, or a gentle rebuff. I know it has to do with the war. I can feel how much you hurt because of it. And when you're in pain, you lash out."

Emotional pain, physical pain, it didn't matter. The Doctor didn't respond well to pain of any kind.

"That's not true." He insists, jaw working back and forth.

I look at him evenly. The bridge of the Doctor's nose slowly turns red in response. Is it agitation? Is it embarrassment? There is such a tangle of emotions in the corner of my mind dedicated to him that I can't really tell. "So I'm going to ask again. Would it make you feel better to lash out at someone?"

The Doctor actually growls, anger vibrating his whole being. The sound that at one time seemed soothing is now threatening. "So what if it would?"

The sound of my footsteps is loud on the grating as I walk up to him. "I would tell you that it's too damn bad. I'm not going to let you sit here and take it out on me. Not this time. And I'm certainly not going to let you take it out on the poor girl down the hallway." I pause, letting my words sink in. "Things happened, and they were our fault. The woman died because of us. And you're busy trying to deny it ever happened on one hand, while trying to push the blame off on somebody else with your other one."

"Because of us?" The Doctor shouts, shaking his head in a sharp motion. He puffs up like he's about to continue yelling, but then all the fight seems to leave, his body slumping, voice barely a whisper. "You tried to tell me that it was a bad idea. But all I could see was a chance to fix something that the war caused." His hand comes up to cover his face. "Everything I touch turns to ashes."

Oh Doctor.

I reach out, pulling his hand away from his face. There is a sheen to his eyes, like tears are about to fall. "Now you know that's not true."

The Doctor's face crumples in response, his arms coming around my shoulders. "Oh Mabel, I'm sorry."

"I know sweetheart." Pushing the sincerity of my words over to him is the best I can do.

There is no good way to handle the situation other than let the Doctor try to cry himself out. Even if every instinct I have is telling me to cart him off and do anything to make it better, I don't think that would be right in this situation. The hurt is to deep, the feelings ingrained in his being.

And sometimes the hurts have to be felt in order for them to go away.

He only let's himself be held for a few minutes, pulling back to wipe at his face. The Doctor's emotions have calmed, though the grey numbness that is starting to replace them is worrying.

So I do what I've seen him do for me. Bustle him off to a shower, give him a comfy pair of clothes to change into and then something to occupy his time. In this instance it's Tardis maintenance.

It takes hours. Hours of his hands moving mechanically, hours of my worry pounding against my skull, for the blankness to recede slightly. It takes hours for the Doctor to stop what he's doing, come up from behind me and lean his head down against my own.

Hours well spent for the weak smile I get nearly a full day after that.

Rose is patient, or as patient as a she can be, knowing something is wrong. I make sure to spend time with her every day, though all activities are limited to the Tardis. The old girl manages to wrangle up a couple of new rooms for us to explore every time. I honestly don't know what I would do without her.

The numbing quality to his emotions slowly start to recede as more time passes. And every time I leave and come back he's a little more pleased to see me, a little more animated with his expressions. My worry never truly disappears, this is the worst I've ever seen the Doctor and my own helplessness is a sour taste behind my teeth, but I try to dial it back for his sake.

Though, come to think about it he probably knows anyways.

That isn't to say that he doesn't have worse days, where he backslides into his depression once again, but as time passes they become less frequent.

The Doctor, to his own credit, has nothing but apologies for me. Apologies for yelling, apologies for his depression. I wave them off of course. Well, not the yelling one, but the ones that have something to do with his depression in some shape or form I always try to brush off.

I've tried explaining to him that he doesn't need to apologize for that. But the Doctor is stubborn as a mule. Even when the verbal apologies stop, they manifest in a new way.

Honestly, it wasn't until the second time I blink my way out of a good book to find a warm glass of tea beside me that I realize he's funneled it into something more productive. And into something that I couldn't reasonably call him out on.

The combination of annoyance and affection must tip him off because I can hear his quiet laugh from somewhere further along in the library.

Seriously.

That man is so infuriating.

"No, I'm not." The Doctor responds, raising his voice to be heard better.

Okay, he's not. But I'm never going to let him know that. I ignore the fact that he probably already knows.

Grapejuice101: I haven't really thought about the Master yet when it comes to introductions. But I'm sure there will be fireworks.

Deathb4beauty: Aww, you are making me blush!

Heather Snow: Thank you for the review!

Almadynis Rayne: You always have such kind things to say to me :D. But yeah, I hadn't quite thought of that touching issue. (Though to be honest, Doctor Who plays fast and loose with it's own canon in that regard anyways so it can be hard to remember what is actually supposed to happen.)