A/N: Thanks to everyone who's faved and reviewed! :D I have to admit I'm upsetting myself by clanging Handy's funeral bells like this lol. But anyway, I hope you're enjoying it, despite the depressed-ness.


4 – Nightcap

The Doctor's favourite room in Pete Tyler's mansion was the study. He couldn't even say himself why it was his favourite; there was nothing spectacular about it. The décor wasn't particularly stylish or cosy. If anything it was a little cold. Tall oak bookshelves covered every wall but the back one and stretched all the way up to the high ceiling. Every single book on the shelves were leather bound, so even the spines failed to break the dark brown colour of the room. The desk was overly large taking it only held a laptop and a photo frame, and the high backed, brown leather chair looked like it had just been wheeled out of some evil overlord's office on special delivery. Behind that there was a large window that looked out onto the vast back garden on the property. The east wing of the house seemed to be in the perfect place to block out the sun at every minute of the day, so the room was constantly dim and shadowy. No one else particularly liked the room. Rose said it was depressing. Jackie said it was creepy. Pete said it was just for show. The Doctor thought it was peaceful. It was quiet.

He stood at the window, watching the last of daylight departing and tried his best to keep his mind blank. He didn't want to think about the revelations of the day and Rose's morbid premonitions. He just wanted to do what he did best, and the only way he could do that was at Torchwood, as much as he hated the place. It was frustrating that now he couldn't even pop in to see what the newest goose-chase was all about; Rose had cut him off completely. Steve and Andy, the two doormen, refused to even let him back into the building earlier. It was ridiculous. All that fuss just because Rose was feeling particularly health conscious?

'Nonsense.' He muttered.

But it wasn't nonsense. He just wanted it to be nonsense.

The Doctor turned away from the window and sat down in the evil-overlord chair. The shadows were heavy now and all colours (well, the dark brown of the room and the blue of his suit were the only colours around) had turned a murky, ghostly grey. It did little to lift his mood. Perhaps he should go up and see Rose. She was probably upset.

Why should I? He thought selfishly. After all, it's me who has the potentially life-ending problem. It should be me who's upset. She should be down here trying to make me feel better!

He exhaled sharply out of his nose and rubbed his forehead. You would think becoming human would make it easier to understand them. Just seems to make it harder.

He didn't glance up when he heard the study door creak open. He assumed it was Rose, coming to pester him again about going to the hospital. He couldn't be bothered with the confrontation.

'Okay, Rose,' he sighed. 'You win. I'll phone them in the morning.'

'Phone who?' a male voice replied. 'Samaritans? This place is depressing enough to kill a boxful of fluffy kittens.'

The Doctor glanced up in surprise to see Pete Tyler in the doorway. He was rarely around these days – he was working a lot at Cybus Industries, still in the process of rebuilding its reputation after the incident with the Cybermen a few years ago. Seemed like such a long time ago now. The Doctor still felt a little awkward around him, for reasons he didn't know. Probably just for the simple reason that he was Rose's father. He needed respect.

'Looks like you're doing a hell of a job feeling sorry for yourself.' Pete commented, glancing around at the darkened room. 'Mind if I join you?'

The Doctor gestured to the empty seat on the other side of the desk. 'It's your house.'

'Looks like you've laid claim to this room though, mate.' Pete closed the door behind him and crossed the room, his smart clicking on the smooth wooden floor. He sat down with a heavy sigh and glanced at the Doctor. 'You got woman troubles too?'

The Doctor half smiled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'Something like that.'

Pete nodded. 'Jackie wants me to get a Jacuzzi in the back garden. She's a stubborn bugger, I can tell you. I mean, Jackie – the other Jackie, y'know? She was the same. Actually… when I think about it she was worse. She wouldn't ask, she'd just take. Still though, a Jacuzzi in the middle of winter? What's wrong with the one in the second floor bathroom anyway?'

The Doctor shifted in his seat. 'Jackie's the kind of person who would buy a bag of ice cubes in the Antarctic.'

Pete chuckled. 'Yeah, tell me about it.' He sat for a moment, regarding the Doctor. 'So what's got your goat? Rose having a go at you?'

The Doctor shifted again. He had never been comfortable with this 'sharing troubles' stuff. He had never realised how often humans do it. Seemed like a big competition to him; a 'my troubles are worse than yours' kind of thing. He didn't understand how that was supposed to make anyone feel any better.

'Oh just… work stuff.'

'Ah,' Pete nodded overenthusiastically. 'Torchwood.' He paused. 'Hate the place.'

'Me too.' The Doctor agreed, smiling.

'Tell you what, mate,' Pete said. 'Stick your hand in that bottom drawer and get that bottle out, will you?'

The Doctor pulled open the bottom drawer and sure enough a bottle of whiskey stared out at him. He chuckled and lifted it out, pushing it across the desk to Pete. 'You know what kind of men hide alcohol in their desks.'

'Yeah,' Pete snorted, unscrewing the cap. 'Stressed ones. Want some?'

'No thanks. Shouldn't. Apparently I need to go to the hospital.'

Pete arched an eyebrow and took a swig from the bottle. He grimaced as he swallowed. 'Hospital?' he echoed. 'What for?'

The Doctor rolled his eyes. 'Rose thinks I have heart problems. Which is ridiculous. I'm absolutely fine! I mean really, me of all the people in the world with a heart problem.' He blew out through his nose. 'Bonkers.'

Pete studied him for a moment. 'Wouldn't hurt to check though, would it?'

The Doctor glanced back to him. 'But why should I? There's nothing wrong with me.'

Pete sighed as he fiddled with the cap off the bottle. 'Look, mate. I know how it feels. Couple of years back Jackie started pestering me into going for one of those prostate exam things. Hated the idea and just danced around it for months but she kept on, kept nagging and nagging. In the end I realised I didn't want to go because I was terrified they would find something, y'know? I went in the end, just to shut her up mainly. Nothing was wrong. All in her head.' He took another swig from the bottle. 'Just go and get whatever she wants you to. If there's nothing wrong you can get on as normal.'

'And if there is? Something wrong, I mean.'

Pete shrugged. 'Then you'll just have to work it out. Better to find out yourself than for it to take you by surprise.'

The Doctor nodded, frowning thoughtfully.

'Look, mate,' Pete leaned forward and rubbed his chin with one hand. In the dim light he looked younger – like he had done when the Doctor and Rose had met him the first time in 1987. 'I haven't known Rose for very long. She's my daughter, I believe that completely, but if we're all honest I've only really known her for about four years. One thing I do know about her though is that she's smart. She's really smart. And if she thinks there's something wrong… well… let's just say I haven't seen her get worked up over nothing.'

The Doctor stared down at the desk and said nothing.

'You know yourself what she's like,' Pete went on. 'Probably better than I do.' He paused to take another drink. 'I was here when she got stuck here the first time. I was with her while she got over what had happened. I was here, watching, while she put all her time – and all my money may I add – into getting back to finding you. All her work and determination paid off because… well, there you are. Here you are. And what's better she got her very own version of you. Y'know, I don't mean it cheeky or anything but you're human. You can both live normal lives. Well, I say normal…' He paused again and sighed. 'The thought of losing you for the second time is just out of the question to her. Imagine if the tables were turned. How would you react then?'

The Doctor remained silent and continued to look down at the table, the gears whirring in his mind. Pete sat and looked at him for a long time, and then had one last swig from the bottle.

'Well, it's late,' he said, screwing the cap on the bottle. 'And if I sit in this room a minute longer I think I might have to jam this bottle in my eye.' He stood up and looked around. 'Maybe some curtains would brighten the place up…' he thought aloud. 'Or a nice rug. Anyway… goodnight, Doctor. Hope I didn't depress you even more.'

The Doctor forced a smile. 'No,' he lied. 'Course not. Night, Pete.'

Pete nodded and winked, before turning and leaving the study. The Doctor sat and looked at the bottle he had left behind, a shaft of moonlight hitting the neck and spreading out across the desk. He hesitated, and reached out for it.