Time is Still A-Flying

by chocolatequeen

Part 3 of Being to Timelessness. With a bond and a promise of forever, the Doctor and Rose have managed to escape the trap set for them in Torchwood, but Time is not yet done with them. The Master is still in London and Election Day draws ever closer. He's tried to separate them once; will they survive a second attempt? Sequel to To Make Much of Time

30. Worth It

AN: With this chapter, Time is Still A-Flying is now longer than To Make Much of Time. The draft is currently 230K and still growing.

Also, we passed 200 followers this week-thank you all so much! And now, onto the conclusion of the Human Nature arc.

Chapter 30: Worth It

John's thoughts were in turmoil as he walked away from Rose. He had loved the idea of the Doctor before, when he'd thought it was just a dream. Now that the dream was encroaching on his reality, he wasn't sure how he felt about the alien.

He pushed the thought aside and focused on the task Rose had given him. John found the headmaster at the front line of sandbags. "Sir, I need to speak with you."

"Some other time, Tyler," he said brusquely. "Perhaps it's escaped your notice, but we are a little busy right now."

John looked at the boys holding weapons and crouching behind sandbags, and his lips tightened. "Yes, sir. And that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about."

That got the man's attention. He glanced at John quickly, then nodded. "Very well. We can step inside for a moment. Hutchinson, I will return shortly, but you know what to do if we are attacked before I get back."

"Yes sir." Hutchinson was pasty white, and John knew Rose was right. They couldn't let these boys stand against an enemy with greater power than they had, not when there was the option to retreat.

He followed the headmaster into the school, and as soon as they were inside, the other man turned and said, "Make it quick, Tyler. There are urgent matters at hand."

John drew a breath and nodded once. "Sir, do you think it's a good idea to set our boys against these… things? You saw what their weapon can do. What chance do we have against firepower like that?"

"Are you saying you think we should retreat?"

John shook his head. "I'm saying our first duty to those boys is their well-being, and sending them into a battle they cannot win is the grossest kind of negligence."

The headmaster's lips curled into a snarl. "I questioned your decision not to allow young Latimer to be beaten this afternoon, but I didn't realise it stemmed from such a cowardly heart. We do not fight because we can win; we fight because it is right!"

He spun on his heel and walked back outside, leaving John to watch helplessly as the main gates were pounded from the outside.

"Stand to!" the headmaster called out. "At post!"

The boys all took aim. The pounding grew louder, and the door shook beneath the force.

"Enemy approaching, sir," one of the boys said.

"Steady," the headmaster cautioned. "Find the biting point."

The doors broke down and the scarecrow men John had seen earlier staggered into the courtyard. "Fire!" the headmaster called out.

A barrage of fire echoed through the courtyard, and John watched as one by one, the scarecrows went down. Maybe this wasn't going to end as badly as he'd feared.

"Cease fire!" the headmaster ordered when the enemy had been vanquished. He walked over to one and looked at it carefully. "They're straw. Like he said, straw."

"Then no one's dead, sir? We killed no one?"

Hutchinson's question made John's heart ache. No boy of seventeen should carry the burden of taking another life, and even though it turned out that hadn't happened, John knew these boys would never forget those few moments when they thought they had killed.

Footsteps crunching in the gravel caught everyone's attention. "Stand to!" the headmaster commanded.

The young girl with a balloon skipped into the courtyard. John took an instinctive step back, remembering the cold way she had killed Mr. Philips.

But the headmaster relaxed and gestured for her to come closer. "You, child. Come out of the way. Come into the school. You did something wrong before, but if you will turn yourself in now, the magistrates will be lenient with you." The child stopped into the middle of the courtyard, and the headmaster walked towards her. "It's the Cartwright girl, isn't it? Come here. Come to me."

John couldn't imagine what the headmaster was thinking, but before he could protest, Martha ran past him. "Mr. Rocastle! Please, don't go near her."

The headmaster glared at her. "You were told to be quiet."

"Just listen to me," Martha pleaded. "She's part of it. Mr. Tyler, tell him."

John nodded. "Martha is right, sir. She was with Baines in the village. And you saw her kill Mr. Philips not thirty minutes ago."

"Mr. Tyler, your cowardice continues to amaze me. Do you not know that there are many ways a child could be coerced into acting in such a manner? I will not have her listed among the casualties of this night." He looked back at the girl. "Come with me."

"Humans are so dull and stupid," she said. Before anyone could blink, she pulled a gun out from behind her back and shot the headmaster. "Now who's going to shoot me?" she taunted, looking at the boys. "Any of you, really?"

"Put down your guns," John ordered.

"But sir, the Headmaster," Hutchinson protested.

"I'll not see this happen. Not anymore." Mr. Clark stepped quietly into the courtyard, and John was even more determined to get the boys out. "You will retreat in an orderly fashion back through the school. Hutchinson, lead the way."

"But sir."

John glanced at him, then back at Mr. Clark. "I said, lead the way."

"Well, go on, then. Run!" Mr. Clark fired his weapon into the air.

That galvanised the boys into action, and they ran back into the school. Mr. Clark ordered the scarecrows to reanimate, and they rose from the flagstones, chasing the boys.

It wasn't the orderly retreat John had hoped for, and he feared the chaos might lead to injuries that could have been avoided. He tried to corral as many as he could towards the stable block, where he found Martha and the matron directing them to hide in the fields.

Anxiety buzzed in the back of John's mind, but he ignored it as best he could. "Let's go," he told the boys. "Quick as you can."

"Where's Rose?" Martha asked.

The same anxiety bothered him again, but John said, "She was getting the younger boys out. Now you, ladies," he said, pointing to the door.

Matron Redfern shook her head. "Not till we've got the boys out."

A group of senior boys ran past them, looking more terrified than anyone he'd seen that night. John followed them outside, watching the boys as they ran.

Martha and Matron Redfern were in the doorway when he ran back into the stable. "Now, I insist. You'll find Rose with the younger boys on the path to our cottage. If there are any more boys inside, I'll find them."

John opened the door, intending to go back into the school, but when he saw scarecrows on the other side, he slammed it shut and locked it instead. He spun on his heel and noted with some relief that the matron was gone, leaving only Martha behind. If his memories were all true, then she was used to running with him from danger.

"I think, retreat," he said, and the two of them ran.

John led them towards the cottage, shivering when the wind cut through his wool suit jacket. As they crept through the woods, Mr. Clark's voice called out to them. "Doctor! Doctor!"

The side entrance to the school was visible through a gap in the trees, and John could see a blue box standing in front of the door. He sucked in a breath at the sight, his mind suddenly filled with memories of running towards her, hand in hand with Rose.

"Come back, Doctor," Mr. Clark taunted. "Come home. Come and claim your prize."

"You recognise it, don't you?" Martha whispered.

Jenny called out, "Come out, Doctor. Come to us!"

John shook his head reflexively. Most of his doubts had withered away when Rose revealed that they'd shared the same dreams, but it was still hard to believe the fantastical truth.

"Do you remember its name?" Martha pressed.

All thoughts of the Doctor's blue box disappeared from John's mind when Baines stepped out of the shadows to join his Family, holding—

"Rose!" John gasped, the agony lancing through him stealing the volume from the cry. The anxiety he'd felt made sense now.

"Out you come, Doctor," Baines said. "There's a good boy. Come to the Family."

"Time to end it now, Doctor," Jenny said. "We have your wife. If you don't turn yourself over to us in one hour, she will die."

The pain solidified into icy rage. John half stood up, but Martha grabbed his hand and yanked him back down to the ground.

"Let go of me," he ordered, hardly recognising his voice.

Martha scoffed at that. "And let you go off to get yourself and Rose both killed? We need a plan." She paused, shook her head, and said, "We need the watches."

They watched as the Family walked away with Rose, leaving their scarecrow army behind to guard the TARDIS.

"Where are they taking her?"

"Probably to their ship," Martha said. "Standing there is too exposed. Even a human could attack, if armed properly."

John paced the width of the path. "Okay, so we find their ship and rescue Rose."

"That is not a plan." Martha argued. "God, you're rubbish when Rose is in danger." She felt a hint of remorse when he flinched at that, but if he didn't pull himself together, she could end up stuck in 1913.

"Right, yes, fine, we need a plan." John shoved his hand through his hair. "But we don't have a plan, and if I can't come up with something in an hour, they'll kill Rose."

"I'm not going to let that happen. You and Rose are my best friends." Martha grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the open fields. "We need a place to hide while we figure out what to do, and I think I know where we can go."

They jogged together through the fields and bracken until they came to a dark farmhouse. "What's this? Who lives here?"

"If I'm right, no one," Martha said grimly as she opened the door. The house was silent and dark, with tea laid out on the table, half-eaten.

"Sometimes, I hate being right." Martha sighed and shook her head. "This is the Cartwrights' house. Rose and I called on Mrs. Cartwright yesterday. That little girl at the school, she's their daughter. If she came home this afternoon, and her parents tried to stop her…"

John sank onto the bench underneath the window and held his head in his hands. "Rose can't die," he whimpered. "I can't… not without Rose."

Martha watched her friend with more than a little trepidation. He and Rose had told her their bond was permanent, and that tampering with it hurt. She'd assumed becoming human had changed that, but what if it hadn't?

"Mr. Tyler," she said hesitantly, "have you ever thought you could feel Rose in your head? Like, you just knew where she was, or how she was feeling?"

He looked at Martha, then leaned his head back against the window. "All the time."

Martha wanted to swear at that revelation, but before she could shock John Tyler's 1913 sensibilities, someone knocked on the door.

She stared at the door for a moment, then said, "Right. Scarecrows don't knock." Still, she was relieved when she opened the door to find Timothy Latimer on the other side.

"What are you doing here, Tim?" John asked.

The boy held out two watches. "I brought you these."

John leapt up and snatched them out of his hand. "How did you get these?" he snapped.

"When I came to borrow that book this afternoon," Tim said. "They talked to me, asked me to keep them safe. They told me you were here; that's how I found you."

As John held the watches, he thought he heard voices coming from them, his voice and Rose's voice, telling him it was time, to trust Tim, to save Rose.

"Why did they speak to me?" Tim asked, interrupting John's thoughts.

"Oh, low level telepathic field. You were born with it. Just an extra synaptic engram causing—" He looked up at Martha, wide-eyed. "Is that how he talks?"

She nodded eagerly. "That's him. All you have to do is open it and he's back."

John stared at the silver watch, whispering in his voice. "And he can save Rose?"

Tim answered before Martha could. "The Doctor would die before he let anything happen to Rose Tyler."

"All right then." John put his thumb on the latch, and after only a second's hesitation, he pushed it and the watch flipped open.

Golden light flooded the room, but John hardly saw it. Memories were pouring into his mind, memories of who he was and his 1200 years of life. He winced at the discomfort when his biology reverted back to that of a Time Lord, but thankfully it wasn't nearly as painful a process as becoming human had been.

Only one thing didn't go back to exactly as it had been before he'd changed. His bond with Rose was weaker now than it had been when they were only engaged, because her fully human mind wasn't able to sustain anything more than an empathic link.

The watch snapped shut when his transformation was complete. "Doctor?" Martha asked.

"That's me," he answered.

"Doctor, they've got Rose."

"I remember," he answered curtly, the Oncoming Storm creeping into his voice. He'd given the Family a chance, and they'd chosen to take his bond mate hostage.

"What are you going to do?"

The Doctor held up his watch. "A bit of trickery to get close, and then, rescue Rose and take care of the Family."

He looked down at the gold watch containing Rose. Now that he was himself again, he could understand the words she was saying, urging him to be merciful. He gritted his teeth. Sometimes, Rose asked for too much.

"Do you hear her, Doctor?" Tim asked, and the Doctor looked up at him, his eyebrows knit together. "The Wolf is howling for her mate."

A shiver ran up the Doctor's spine. "I always hear her, Tim," he replied. "Thank you for taking care of the watches, and bringing them to me. Now you should go join the Matron and the other boys."

The lad nodded and left the cottage, and the Doctor turned his attention to Martha. "Martha, will you come with me? I'll need to deal with the Family immediately, and I don't know what state Rose will be in. If you were there waiting to take care of her if she needs it…"

"Of course, Doctor."

He held the watch out to her. "And take this, too. Once we're out of the ship, have Rose open the watch and then both of you come back here. I'll come for you after the Family have been taken care of."

oOoOoOoOo

The Doctor opened the door to the Family's ship with the sonic screwdriver, then put it in his pocket and stumbled inside. The eerie green lighting reminded him of Rose's joke when they were looking for the Racnoss about the bad guys using mood lighting. He scanned the dark interior quickly, looking for Rose and taking in the situation. All four members of the Family were on the far end of the ship by the guns, and slumped on the floor in front of them was Rose.

Even in the dim light, he could see faint bruising around her mouth and nose from where Baines had grabbed her. His fury mounted higher, but he forced it down and put on the persona of a desperate husband instead—which wasn't much of an act. "Just…" He stumbled purposely against the controls on the wall. "Just give me my wife back. That's all I'm asking. I'll do anything you want, just… just don't hurt her."

The Family stared at him as he stood straight before them, eyes wide and his chest heaving with supposedly panicked breaths.

"Say please," Son of Mine ordered cruelly.

The Doctor paused, then took another breath. "Please."

Mother of Mine looked him up and down. "Wait a minute." She took a deep breath. "Still human."

"Now I can't, I can't pretend to understand," the Doctor stammered as he took a step towards the Family, "not for a second, but I want you to know I'm innocent in all this." He put his hand over his chest in appeal. "He made me John Tyler. It's not like I had any control over it." He flung out his hand to emphasise that statement, then ran it over another set of controls.

"He didn't just make himself human," Mother of Mine said derisively. "He made himself an idiot."

The Doctor looked at them, all of them staring at him.

"Same thing, isn't it?" Son of Mine sneered.

"I don't care about this Doctor and your family," the Doctor said as he took a few more steps towards Rose. "I just want you to go and leave Rose and I alone. So I've made my choice." He held the watch in his outstretched hand, and their gazes sharpened. "You can have him. Just take it, please! Take him away."

Son of Mine walked towards him. "At last." He took the watch and stared at it for a minute, then without looking away from it, he grabbed the Doctor by the lapels. "Don't think that saved you, or your precious wife."

He shoved the Doctor away, and the Doctor used the momentum to press more controls as he fell to the ground next to Rose. She shifted a little and groaned softly, and the tightness in his chest loosened at the signs she was waking up. He reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze, then subtly moved into a crouch.

"Family of Mine," Son of Mine said, his voice low and triumphant, "now we shall have the lives of a Time Lord."

He flipped open the watch and they all sniffed deeply, realising almost immediately that it no longer contained the Doctor's consciousness.

Son of Mine clicked the watch shut and glared at the Doctor. "It's empty!"

The Doctor stared at it, panting heavily. "Where's it gone?"

Son of Mine threw it back at the Doctor. "You tell me."

The Doctor snatched it out of the air with reflexes far superior to John Tyler's, then he pulled Rose to him and stood up. "Oh, I think the explanation might be you've been fooled by a simple olfactory misdirection. Little bit like ventriloquism of the nose. It's an elementary trick in certain parts of the galaxy.

"But it has got to be said—" the Doctor nodded at the control panel—"I don't like the looks of that hydroconometer." The Family followed his gaze as he looked at the ceiling and finally the heat converters. "It seems to be indicating you've got energy feedback all the way through the retrostabilisers feeding back into the primary heat converters." Comprehension slowly dawned on their faces, and he felt a surge of vengeful glee. "Oh. Because if there's one thing you shouldn't have done, you shouldn't have let me press all those buttons." He spun closer to the door. "But, in fairness, I will give you one word of advice. Run."

The Doctor raced out of the ship, cradling a groggy Rose in his arms. Behind him, the Family shouted as they ran from their about-to-explode ship, but he ignored them, running to where Martha stood by the fence.

"Rose, can you stand?" he asked gently. She nodded, and he lowered her to her feet. Martha wrapped an arm around Rose's waist and led her away, and the Doctor turned back to the Family just as the explosion from their ship knocked them off their feet.

They groaned and slowly looked up at the Doctor, fear finally showing in their eyes. He stared at them, one by one, letting them see the full force of his anger.

"There's one other thing you shouldn't have done," he told him, his voice hard now instead of conversational as it had been on the ship. "You should not have threatened Rose. Because now, while I'm considering what to do with you, I'm remembering my wife lying unconscious on the floor of your ship."

The Doctor sucked in a breath when the bond flared back to full strength. Rose was fully herself again.

He rocked back on his heels. "Even worse for you, it was Rose who urged me to hide instead of confronting you right away, two months ago. So you abused the generosity of the one person who might have asked me to show you mercy. And I find that doesn't make me feel very merciful at all."

The Family remained on their bellies in the dirt, and the Doctor leaned over them. "Tell me, Son of Mine, why did you hunt for us in the first place?"

Fear finally shone in Baines' eyes. "To take possession of your Time Lord consciousnesses. To live forever without having to find a new body every three months."

"Yes, to live forever." The Doctor straightened up. Rose was no longer telling him to show mercy, but perhaps granting their wish would be a worse punishment than death. Poetic justice. "Well, as it happens, I am feeling merciful, after all. I think you should get exactly what you wanted—eternal life. Get up," he ordered, and the Family stumbled to their feet, cowering in fear.

He drove them towards the TARDIS and shoved them inside. The punishments he devised for them were simple and elegant. Father of Mine was wrapped in unbreakable chains that had been forged in the heart of a dwarf star, and Mother of Mine was ejected from the TARDIS into the event horizon of a collapsing galaxy. Daughter of Mine was trapped in mirrors—in every mirror—always able to see out, but never able to get out.

And Son of Mine, the one who had taken Rose?

The Doctor stared at this last member of the Family, after he had wrought justice on the other three. Jeremy Baines' face stared back at him, but the eyes no longer held the arrogance of the young man who'd had life handed to him on a silver platter, or the vicious cruelty of Son of Mine. All the Doctor saw was fear.

"Something special for you," he murmured. "You were so eager to destroy, so I think you will spend the rest of time protecting."

It was simple work, really, to suspend him in time. The Doctor landed the TARDIS in the field he and Rose had walked through just that afternoon and dragged Son of Mine to the scarecrow. With the body unable to move, the Doctor could dress him in the scarecrow's trappings, then tie him to the bars.

He stared at Baines' face one more time, the anger burning hot. Then he pulled the burlap bag over his head, and walked away.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose paced the Cartwright house, waiting for the Doctor to return from issuing judgment on the Family of Blood. She'd known as soon as she'd opened the watch that he would not be swayed, and for once, she didn't try to argue. The Family had threatened her life and actually managed to hurt her, and for the Doctor, that was the one transgression he could never forgive.

"Then what about all the times he put Rose in danger? Do you know how many times he thought he'd lost her? How can you ask me to change back into someone who constantly endangers my love's life?"

The Doctor's guilt had always been one of the darker threads running through the tapestry of their relationship, but hearing a version of the Doctor state so unequivocally that he only risked her life…

The rustle of Martha's skirt as she shifted in her seat drew Rose from her private thoughts. "I know this isn't the way we wanted things to go," she said, "but I have to tell you, I'm glad I don't have to spend another month in 1913. I'm ready to just spend a week enjoying everything about modern life that I take for granted. Like the bathtub in my en suite, for instance, and the never ending supply of hot water."

"Oh, I can't argue with that." Rose sighed in pleasure at the thought.

"Spending the day in front of the telly, just catching up on all the shows we've missed."

"Ice cream whenever I want it."

"Being treated like an actual person when we go out."

Rose sobered. "I'm sorry about that, Martha. I don't know why the TARDIS chose this time and this place. I'm sure she had a reason, but that doesn't mean the experience was any more pleasant for you."

Martha shrugged. "It wasn't as bad as it could have been. You and the Doctor accepted me as your friend and never talked down to me, even though I worked for you." She relaxed into the settee. "You know, I figured the colour of my skin would be the hardest part about being stuck in 1913, but being a woman was at least as bad."

Rose wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, I've gotten my share of that across time and space—can't imagine what it would be like to have more prejudice heaped on top of that."

The TARDIS engines echoed through the room, and Rose's head snapped up. A moment later, the door opened and her bond mate stepped inside. He wore the same half-hopeful, half-proud expression he'd had the first time she'd seen him in his brown suit, and just like that Christmas, her breath caught at the figure he cut in his pinstripes and brown coat. She had missed this him, even if she'd thought he was only a character in her dreams.

Rose smiled back at him, and a second later he strode across the room and swept her up into his arms. She pressed her nose against his collar, and she fancied she could smell the trace of Time the Family had used to track them. The comforting rhythm of his dual heartbeats pounded against her ear, and she was home.

After holding each other tight for a moment, the Doctor stepped back and took her hand. "The TARDIS is right outside. Let's go home."

Rose pulled him to the side of the room. "Let's let Martha go first," she told him.

He looked over at their friend for the first time, and his eyes softened. "Of course. Thank you, Martha. Thank you for everything."

Martha hugged them both, then ran into the TARDIS.

Rose would have smiled at her enthusiasm, but then she stepped into the TARDIS herself and felt the warm hum of the ship envelope her.

Oh. Oh, I missed you too, Dear.

She stroked a bit of the coral, then realised the Doctor was watching her, a glint of amusement in his eyes. I hope she's not the only one you missed.

Rose took his hand and walked with him down the corridor to their room. I did miss you, and I didn't even know it, she told him. But that reminds me, sometimes I thought I could tell what John was feeling.

Not even the chameleon arch can completely break a bond. The Doctor pushed the door open. I was always aware of you, always somehow aware of where you were, or how you were feeling.

Their telepathic conversation only served to whet Rose's desire for more. The human Rose hadn't understood the longing she'd felt for more intimacy with her husband, but now that she was herself again, she ached for the full telepathic connection. She felt the same need in the Doctor, and without a word, they quickly changed into pyjamas and went into the study.

On her way out of their bedroom, Rose spotted something on her vanity and picked it up as she walked by. When she sat down with the Doctor on the couch, she opened her clenched fist and showed him what she held.

The Doctor's mouth stretched into a wide smile when he saw their rings. He picked hers up first and took her left hand. "I do like the rings the TARDIS provided for us," he said as he slid the old-fashioned diamond ring off her finger. "But I like the ones we chose better."

His gaze burned into hers when he pushed her wedding ring back onto her finger where it belonged. Rose Tyler, you are my forever.

Without a word, Rose removed the simple silver band John Tyler had worn and replaced it with the Doctor's Gallifreyan-engraved ring. Forever, my Doctor, she promised, rubbing her thumb over the circular script as she repeated her promise.

The Doctor pulled her to him and they stretched out together on the couch. They both reached for the full communion of their bond at the same moment, exhaling when they were finally as close as it was possible to be.

Rose sighed and shifted closer when she was surrounded by the feeling of home that was the Doctor's telepathic presence. She felt tension ease out of his shoulders when she wrapped her own mind around him, and could see the pink and gold of her mental signature through his eyes.

Then she let go of conscious thought and simply rested in the absolute security of their bond. The complete confidence in his love for her, and knowing he could feel the same reflected back, eased the loneliness she'd experienced for the last two months.

When they pulled themselves out of their telepathic embrace some time later, the TARDIS had tea and biscuits waiting, and Rose smiled at the simple pleasures of being home.

"She created a nice life for us though, didn't she?" the Doctor asked.

Rose hummed as she sipped her tea. "Yeah, it was nice. Bit slow, compared to what we're used to, and I'd never be able to stand two months in a time where I was nothing but a housewife, but… it was nice." She looked up at the Doctor. "John was more tolerant than most men were back then, I think. Certainly more domestic, helping with the cooking."

The Doctor nodded. "John was me. He might not have known that women deserved the vote, or that a black woman would one day be allowed to study medicine, but he knew you, and he knew Martha, so his mind sort of… made allowances for your personalities."

He ran his fingers through her hair as he talked, and Rose turned her head slightly to encourage him.

"And since he was me, he was utterly besotted with his wife. He would have given you anything within his power. Fixing breakfast in the morning was an easy concession."

There was a twinkle in his eye, and Rose pursed her lips. "I see that comment you're wanting to make."

The Doctor chuckled. "You're a decent cook, Rose, but breakfast will never be your speciality. Apparently, you need to be awake to cook."

Rose rolled her eyes. "All right, laugh if you must."

"I just don't understand how you only need half the amount of sleep of a normal human, and yet you're still a zombie until you've had your first cuppa."

"I could either blame it on being part human still, on being British, or on being my mum's daughter. You pick." Rose yawned and cuddled closer to the Doctor.

"Tired, love?" He brushed a kiss over her temple.

"It's been a long day." She stood up and stretched as another yawn overtook her. "Hard to believe that only a few hours ago, we were dancing together."

"That we were," he agreed. Unable to resist, he waggled his eyebrows at her. "And a few hours before that, we were dancing together."

Rose stopped in the doorway and looked over her shoulder at him. The Doctor giggled at the way she rolled her eyes even as a half smile played with the corners of her mouth, and she shook her head. "Come on, let's go to bed before I fall asleep standing up."

oOoOoOoOo

Rose fell asleep almost as soon as the TARDIS dimmed the lights, but after two months of sleeping eight hours a night like a human, the Doctor wasn't tired at all. Rose's hair tickled his nose and he caught a whiff of the shampoo she'd used while they were in 1913—something chemical-y and sharp that didn't smell at all like he was used to. But under the artificial perfume, she still smelled like herself, and the Doctor found himself pulling her closer.

Even more important than how she smelled, she felt like Rose. Her sleeping mind resting against his felt right in a way it hadn't while their true selves had been locked up in the watches.

He would never regret opening his watch first, since it was the only way to rescue Rose, but that brief period when their bond had been unequal had almost hurt. For the first time in months, the Doctor took a moment to be thankful for Rose's actions on the Game Station that made their bond possible. If she hadn't opened the heart of the TARDIS to save his life, she would still be just as human has she had been for the last two months. He might not have known what he was missing, but now, more than a year after they'd taken the first steps towards a marriage bond, he couldn't imagine living without her in his mind.

And I nearly turned my back on this. The Doctor snorted, remembering how reluctant he'd been to even accept the empathic connection they'd had, thanks to the TARDIS.

The ship hummed smugly, and the Doctor rolled his eyes. Yes, you were smarter than I was, he admitted, and he felt her preen.

Rose rolled onto her other side, and the Doctor followed, spooning her. Two years ago, the idea of a bond with Rose, marrying Rose, of holding her every night while she slept, was all a fantasy he refused to reach for. Now it was his life, and he would never let it—or her—go.

oOoOoOoOo

"I thought we might go someplace relaxing today," the Doctor said the next morning as they got dressed. "As a thank you to Martha for watching out for us for two months."

"Actually, Doctor, I'd like to go back to the cottage and collect a few things," Rose said.

He stopped in the middle of tying his tie to stare at her. "But none of those clothes… those were all just from the wardrobe room."

"I didn't say clothes." Rose buttoned up her black trousers and pulled on a blue jumper. "After two months of dresses every day, I'm fine letting those go, actually. Glad I don't need to pull my hair up every day, too. But your Journal of Impossible Things is still there, and I don't want to leave it behind."

The Doctor sighed. "All right, fine. After one minor detour at the Tyler cottage, we'll take off for a holiday trip."

They told Martha their plans over breakfast, and when they were done eating, he moved the TARDIS a mile and a half from the Cartwright's farm to the cottage he'd shared with Rose. When Rose opened the door, it was raining so hard he could see it from where he stood by the console. She looked at it in distaste and grabbed the umbrella she'd started keeping by the door before ducking outside.

She'd only been gone for five minutes when someone knocked on the TARDIS door. The Doctor and Martha exchanged surprised glances, then the Doctor walked slowly towards the door.

Timothy Latimer stood on the other side, wet hair plastered to his head and his hands clasped behind his back. "Doctor. Martha."

The Doctor smiled in genuine delight, even as he blinked against the driving rain gusting in through the open doors. "Tim Timothy Timber."

Tim held out his hand for the Doctor to shake. "I just wanted to say goodbye. And thank you. Because I've seen the future and I know now what must be done." He swallowed hard, but didn't shirk away from the gravity of his next words. "It's coming, isn't it? The biggest war ever."

Timothy didn't even jump when Rose put a hand on his shoulder, and the Doctor realised that holding the watches had opened up his psychic abilities even more than he'd known.

"You don't have to fight, Tim," Rose said gently.

He shook his head. "I think we do," he said, with more maturity and wisdom than most men twice his age.

"But you could get hurt," Martha protested.

Tim gave her a half smile. "Well, so could you, travelling around with him, but it's not going to stop you," he pointed out reasonably.

"Tim, I'd be honoured if you'd take this." The Doctor handed him his fob watch.

Tim held it up to his ear. "I can't hear anything."

"No, it's just a watch now. But keep it with you, for good luck."

Martha stepped forward and gave Tim a hug. "Look after yourself." She kissed him on the cheek, then went into the TARDIS.

Timothy looked at the Doctor and Rose, and something in his gaze made the hairs stand up on the back of the Doctor's neck. "The Doctor and Rose Tyler," he said in a distant voice. "Together, you burn at the centre of time and can see the turn of the universe. Even when the Wolf is silenced, your story will not be over." His gaze sharpened. "You are… forever."

The couple shared a startled glance. Neither of them had ever told anyone else about that word. "Timothy, you are brilliant," the Doctor said sincerely. Rose gave him a hug, then joined Martha inside. "You'll like this bit," the Doctor told Tim, wishing he could see the look on the lad's face when the ship dematerialised.

Rose watched the Doctor as he took the TARDIS into the vortex. The faint lines around his eyes and mouth and the tension in his body matched the anxiety he was projecting over the bond, and once he threw the dematerialisation lever, she took his hand and encouraged him to sit with her in the jump seat.

"What do you think Tim meant, about me being silenced?" she asked.

He sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. "I honestly don't have a clue, Rose," he told her. "Last night, before I faced the Family, he asked if I could hear you, howling for your mate. I told him the truth—I can always hear you."

Rose pulled her sonic out of her pocket and after adjusting the settings, pointed it at the Doctor to dry him off. "Do you think something's going to happen, and you won't be able to?"

"Not possible," the Doctor said flatly. "If even changing species couldn't get rid of our bond, nothing can."

Rose nodded slowly. "Can we look Tim up?" she asked, changing the subject. "Go visit him in the future, see what he made of himself?"

Martha returned to the console room as Rose was suggesting that, having changed into a dry shirt. "I'd like that too, Doctor," she agreed. "If he hadn't taken the watches yesterday afternoon, the Family probably would have found them."

The Doctor nodded. "It was the watches that kept us safe at the dance, actually. Remember the song? Tim opened my watch, and that distracted the Family long enough for Rose to get away from them." He took Rose's hand. "I should have thanked him for that."

The TARDIS seemed to know exactly where they wanted to go, which confirmed the Doctor's suspicion that she'd taken them to 1913 for Tim. When they landed, the Doctor read the coordinates. "Ah. Remembrance Sunday, 1990."

"He fought in the war," Rose realised.

"Almost every young man his age did," the Doctor answered.

There was no need for discussion; as soon as the ship came to a stop, the three occupants of the TARDIS slipped outside. They'd landed on the outskirts of Farringham, and none of them were surprised to find a war memorial in the village green, where a vicar was presiding over a service.

An old soldier caught the Doctor's eye—or maybe the Doctor caught his eye. When recognition crossed his face, the Doctor was certain. Tim nodded in thanks and acknowledgement, then looked at something he held in his lap.

The watch, the Doctor realised. He kept it all these years.

He turned his attention back to the vicar, who was reciting "For the Fallen."

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old.

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them."

The closer the vicar got to the end of the poem, the more antsy and ready to leave the Doctor got. His instinct would have been to leave before the service reached its end, so he could avoid talking to Tim. Going back and revisiting old friends was never his thing.

Maybe it should be, Rose told him when she picked up on his indecision. He saved our lives; he deserves more than just a little wave as we pass by.

The Doctor nodded, and when the service ended, he led her and Martha over to Tim.

"Doctor." There was nothing of the boy Tim had been in his voice or appearance, unless you looked closely into his eyes.

"Hello, Tim." The Doctor held his hand out. Tim's handshake was firm, despite his age.

"Your watch saved Hutchinson and me," the elderly man said. "I had a vision, you see, when the watch was still you—a vision of us, walking through a battlefield. My future self looked at the watch, then dived out of the way of an incoming bomb. And so, years later when I found myself in that same situation, I knew what to do."

"You are an extraordinary man, Timothy Latimer."

But Tim shook his head. "I'm an ordinary man who was able to use an extraordinary gift." He tilted his head and looked at them. "You've only just come from here, haven't you?" he asked.

The Doctor chuckled. "I said you should be top of your class, didn't I? Yes, the TARDIS lets us take a shortcut, but sometimes I think living on the slow path is the bravest life. You can't skip over the boring bits, or the uncomfortable parts."

Tim smiled, the wisdom of old age shining in his eyes. "Oh, but Doctor. You make sacrifices, too. I've seen your life, remember? All the running, never slowing down to just enjoy a sunset, or a quiet morning with the people you love the most? I think you're probably addicted to the pace, but I also know how hard it was for you to let go of John Tyler and go back to that life. In the end, you did it to save Rose, but you also did it because no one else can do what you do."

Before the Doctor could feel guilty yet again that he couldn't give Rose the kind of domestic life they'd shared in Farringham, a sharp telepathic prod from Rose reminded him that she didn't want that life. Her agreement came through clearly as she slipped her hand into his. "We do have some quiet times, Tim," she corrected, her voice soft. "And they're even more special because they don't come that often. Right, Doctor?"

His throat was too tight to speak, so he simply nodded.

Martha stepped forward in the silence and bent down to brush a kiss over Tim's cheek. "You were one of the few that saw me," she told him. "Thank you for that."

"Martha Jones," he said warmly, "I'm just honoured that I was able to know you."

Something glinted in his eyes, making the Doctor suspect that once again, he knew more of their future than he was letting on. This time, however, he didn't leave them with cryptic words, just a smile and a hearty handshake.

"I think it's time for us to be going." The Doctor put his hand on Tim's shoulder and looked down at him. "Thank you, one more time, for all you did. We really couldn't have done it without you."

He stood back and snapped a salute at the old soldier. Tim's shoulders, drooping with age, straightened as he returned the gesture. "Goodbye, Doctor."

The quiet in the TARDIS as the Doctor sent them into orbit around Earth was contemplative. When the time rotor started moving and he turned around from the console, Rose was in the jump seat and Martha was leaning against the ramp railing.

"I forget sometimes," she said, "that the things we do affect real people. We aren't just jumping in and out of storybooks—these are actual people."

The Doctor nodded.

"That's why it's hard for you, isn't it?" She tilted her head and looked at them both. "You meet people and you're a part of their lives for such a short time, and then you move on… and you don't know what happened to them after."

"Sometimes, it's better that way," the Doctor said quietly. "Sometimes you come back, and you regret what you find out. They're gone, or they've wasted their lives."

Martha shook her head. "And sometimes, you discover they grew to become more than you ever imagined they could be. Aren't the moments like this worth risking the disappointments?"

The silence stretched and deepened, and then the Doctor pushed off from the console. "Come here," he beckoned to both women as he pushed the doors open. Below them, the Earth hung suspended against a backdrop of inky black, the moon hiding in the background.

Martha leaned against the door jamb, the typical awed expression more muted tonight than it typically was when the Doctor showed companions this view.

"Tim was right," he said. "We make sacrifices to live the life we do. We don't have the kind of life where you run into the same fifteen people every week as you go to the market or out for coffee." He nodded at the planet below them. "But this is the trade-off… and I think that makes it worth it."

"Yeah," Martha breathed. "It's definitely worth it."

The Doctor took Rose's hand and rubbed his finger against her ring. It was worth it to them, and always would be. Despite his brief regret when they were talking to Tim, he knew Rose would never want a regular human life. In fact, he'd never seen anyone take to his lifestyle as naturally as she had. Rose rested her head on his shoulder, her contentment surrounding him like a warm blanket.

Martha though… He cast her a sidelong glance. How long would this be enough to make up for the things she was missing? The timelines around her were hazier than usual, but he could sense something coming, something that would change her mind and make her decide her place was in London. He could only hope that whatever it was, the majesties of the universe she saw while she was with them still made the experience seem worth it.