A/N: Not my favorite chapter to write, honestly. I may have cut it a bit short, and I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you if I can!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who.

"I'm sorry sir, we're closed."

The Doctor normally considered himself a patient man. Really, he did. He's lived for over 900 years and through multiple wars, one that destroyed everything he knew and everyone he loved. If he wasn't patient, he'd go insane. Tonight, however, he was not patient. Last time he was in this situation, he had had only a vague idea of what was going on on the other side of the door. He knew Rose was here, knew there was the walking dead, but he hadn't known they were in close proximity to one another, not initially. He hadn't known that Sneed here had tried to cop a feel on his companion (it took the strength of a thousand Cybermen to not murder the man right then and there). Luckily, he didn't have to speak, since Dickens did it for him.

"Nonsense! Since when did an undertaker keep office hours?" He waved his hand in dismissal. "The dead don't die on schedule. I demand to see your master."

"He's not in, sir," the young woman (Gwyneth, if he remembered correctly) insisted, shaking her head.

"Don't lie to me, child. Summon him at once."

"I'm awfully sorry, Mister Dickens, but the master's indisposed-"

The gas lamp flared, and the Doctor raised his eyebrow. Damn the Gelth. "Having trouble with your gas?"

"What the Shakespeare is going on?" Dickens asked, watching as the Doctor walked right past them both despite Gwyneth's protests.

"You're not allowed inside, sir!"

"There's something inside the walls," he said in dismissal, heading to the door that led to where Rose was. "Something is living inside the gas. Rose?"

"Doctor!" Rose banged on the door. "Let me out, please!"

"Hang on, hang on!" He completely ignored as Sneed came down in protest, opening the door just as the living dead grabbed the blonde on the other side. He quickly pulled her away from the corpse, looking over her. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Who's your friend?"

"Charles Dickens."

"Okay," she said, staring at the author.

The Doctor looked toward the animated corpse, frowning. "My name is the Doctor. You're the Gelth, aren't you." He raised an eyebrow as the corpse remained silent. "You're trapped in the rift, with nothing to bring you out. Well, that's too bad, innit? You're stuck there, forever."

Rose frowned. "What?"

"Rose, if the Gelth come through, not only will she-" He pointed to Gwenyth, whose eyes widened in shock. "-die a rather painful death, but the Gelth will reanimate the dead. Imagine waking up one morning to see thousands, no, millions, of corpses walking around in the streets. Theses things are like termites. They won't stop coming back."

Everyone stared at the corpse in shock, while it itself looked as shocked as a dead, reanimated body could. "We are dying!" it shouted, several voices emitting from the body. "We are trapped! Have mercy on us, mercy on the Gelth!"

He frowned. "No. No mercy on the Gelth."

"Help us!" The body became lifeless once again, falling to the ground as the gas left it, returning to the lamp. Rose stared at it in shock, looking between it and the Doctor.

"I thought you helped people," she said quietly, and ouch, that pierced his two hearts deeply. The Doctor sighed and took her hand.

"Look, Rose, I'm a time traveler. I know what will happen during certain events." That put it vaguely, to say the least. "If we let the Gelth roam free, lots of people will die. It's one species against another, and frankly, I'd like the human race to live. Even if you are just a bunch of stupid apes." He smiled a bit, but Rose didn't look completely comforted by that.

A cough came from behind them, and the duo turned around to see the other three watching them.

"Anyone for a cuppa?" Gwenyth asked nervously.

-DW-

Convincing Charles Dickens to believe what he saw was indeed fact was a tedious task, really, and the Doctor watched as Rose ranted to Sneed and Dickens went to examine the corpse more thoroughly. He sighed and closed his eyes, thinking. He would have to go to the rift in the basement, close it off before Gwenyth had the idea to go and bring the Gelth into this world. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't put Rose at risk again, let alone the whole world. He would do things right.

But what if these events were meant to happen? That was frustrating.

If this really was real, then everything he changed now would stay permanent. Could it keep Rose in this universe? Was she even in Pete's world anymore? Even he couldn't quite know. He could ask the TARDIS, but she refused to answer with more than a hum when he asked how an outcome will happen?.

"...and you, you've flown so far. Further than anyone. The things you've seen. The darkness, the big bad wolf!'

The Doctor's eyes flew open. Bad Wolf. He got up and went toward the two women, looking between them. "You can see the future."

"I should say not, sir."

"But you've just seen it. Do you know Bad Wolf?"

"...sorry, sir," Gwenyth said, shaking her head. "I do not."

The Doctor sighed. They couldn't really escape Bad Wolf this time around, either. Rose was the Bad Wolf, and that would never change.

"Right. I apologize. You've lived on this rift your whole life, haven't you? Born and raised."

"That's right," she said. "I've tried to make sense of it, but...no one helps."

"You can control it."

"Aye, some days."

He looked between them all. "Then you've got to close it. If you don't, the world you saw? Dead. It won't exist."

The room was silent as Gwenyth thought. Finally, she nodded. "Show me what to do."

-DW-

Gwenyth was dead the moment she stepped into the arch.

The Doctor had been overly hopeful, he supposed, believing that stepping into it so she could close it would, instead of killing her, allow her to live. The Gelth couldn't get through unless she let them...but, he supposed, the few that escaped while she tried to close the rift could have done that. He couldn't stop everything, and unfortunately, this was one thing he couldn't stop.

"I'm so sorry," he said to her as Rose and Dickens ran out of the house. Gwenyth shook her head.

"Protect her, Doctor. Things...they're changing. Nothing is set in stone."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Time." Her eyes grew hazy. "It was so set, but you came back, and now nothing is certain. It could be your uprising...or your downfall, for both you and Rose. Be safe, tread carefully." She pulled her match out. "Now run!"

The Doctor ran out, the house exploded, and that was that.

Rose hadn't been very happy once they left her behind, but it was a solemn agreement between them both. Everyone should live. That didn't mean everyone could.

"I wish we could have saved her," she said quietly. The Doctor nodded in agreement.

"I wish everyone could," he responded. "We tried, Rose. I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Rose chewed her lip. "Does he ever write about the ghosts?"

"In a week's time it's 1870, and that's the year he dies. He'll never get to tell his story."

"Ah. He was so nice." She frowned. The Doctor shook his head.

"He was already dead in your time, Rose. We've brought him back to life, and he's more alive now than he's ever been. Let's give him one last surprise."

The TARDIS disappeared, and the Doctor smiled as the clock struck midnight.

"Merry Christmas, Rose."

The blonde smiled softly. "Merry Christmas, Doctor."