Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.
Spoilers: Through Voyage of the Damned.
Author's Notes: Follows soon after Choices We Made. The Doctor, Rose and their daughter settle into life on board the TARDIS. Each part of this story contains a series of connected vignettes that cover the five years between CWM and a sequel.
REGENERATION
The Doctor was beginning to suspect he was actually sick of traveling. Every stop he made, he returned to his ship just a bit more disappointed with the universe. Adventuring rarely cheered him up anymore, although almost nothing did since he'd lost his people. That blond girl had done the trick and proved her competence too. But she'd firmly refused to travel with him. Must have sensed the madness that was inevitable in this incarnation, fueled by the nightmares of what he'd done.
He needed a proper distraction.
When repairs failed to help, the TARDIS decided to interfere, landing without his assistance at a destination of her own choosing. Angry at her impertinence, the Doctor threw open the door and stalked out into the verdant plain.
"Not an apple grass lover this time 'round," he observed after a moment, taking a deep breath of the hazy air. "Not likely to ever be again." He scuffed a patch of ground with his boot, trying to bury the memories of red grass it conjured.
Why his ship would choose this destination of all places...
He gasped as a telepathic connection brushed against the raw nerves at the back of his mind. The familiar tingling hurt in a way it never had before...before he'd done the unthinkable.
"Impossible," he muttered.
His people were gone. Every single one.
He'd made sure of that.
Of course there were other telepathic beings in the universe, but none strong enough to get inside his head without permission. Which meant whoever he was sensing was probably dangerous. Or his recent regeneration hadn't healed him as well as he'd thought.
Whoever it was, they were either very inexperienced or very slippery to successfully avoid his attempts at contact. He would need to locate the physical source for answers. Burying his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, he stalked down the hill, toward the neon lit hospital on the horizon. Determined to avoid chit chat with the hospital staff, he soniced open an access door at the back of the building and snuck through several corridors before a nurse spotted him.
"Sir! Excuse me! Sir!" the nurse shouted, holding her wimple in place over her pointy ears as she caught up with him. "How did you get in here? This building is under quarantine!"
Without stopping, he gestured with his thumb. "Back door."
"But you can't be here! This virus is highly contagious."
"Nah. I've already had it." His face stretched into a wide smile that still felt unnatural. "I'm immune."
"But no one is immune," she insisted, wrinkling her nose. "We've no cure. Nothing even close."
"Yet," he retorted, striding purposefully past her and into the critical care ward.
Every available space was filled with beds, forcing him to shuffle carefully between the rows so as not to disturb any of the patients. Methodically, he peered at each one, reaching out with his mind, trying to make contact. He was close to giving up entirely, when he paused in front of a young girl.
Her dark brown hair and delicate features unburied distant memories of his granddaughter when she'd first traveled with him. He hadn't dared to think of her in decades. Swallowing hard, he forced his mind away from the past so he could focus on the problem at hand. Intrinsically, he knew this girl was the one who'd touched his mind.
"I'm afraid she hasn't long," remarked a voice behind him. "She's a fighter, but this virus is too strong. Are you a relative?"
Bristling at the implications of that question, he grabbed the clipboard attached to the frame of the bed and flipped through the pages. "Her charts aren't right," he told the nurse. "Not for a human anyway. She is human, isn't she?"
"Yes. As far as we can tell," the nurse agreed. "She has a heart anomaly. But it hardly matters. It won't save her. Nothing works. For any of them." There was a cry of anguish from the other side of the room and the nurse rushed to attend to another patient.
The Doctor took a deep breath, steeling himself for the evidence that this girl was not like him. He pressed his fingers against her temple.
"Can't be," he gasped, immediately withdrawing as if he'd been burned. "It's not...it's not possible. No one escaped. No one." But he couldn't deny that she was real. "Where did you come from, little one?"
His investigation was interrupted by a loud argument just outside the room. The door flew open, revealing a pretty boy in a suit and the nurse the Doctor had dealt with earlier.
"Sir! You can't go in there!" the nurse shouted, trying to block the man from entering. "I already had one trespasser make it through and it won't happen again on my watch! This hospital is under quarantine."
"I'm not susceptible," replied the man tersely.
"There's no cure!"
"Yet." Deftly avoiding the nurse, the man stepped inside. "Look, I'll just pop in, have a quick gander, and then leave. Won't cause you any trouble." There was a grim set to the man's jaw as he strode purposefully across the room. He was so focused on his goal that he failed to notice the other man standing beside the bed.
"She yours? Been readin' her charts. Her condition's a bit curious," the Doctor commented, casually leaning against the opposite bed. "I'm the Doctor, by the way."
"Oh." The man straightened, tilting his head as he looked the Doctor over. "Funny. I don't remember this happening."
The Doctor frowned. "What?"
Returning his attention to the girl, the man gently touched her temple. "You should go."
"Don't think so," the Doctor retorted, folding his arms across his chest. "Not before you tell me..." His eyes narrowed. "I've seen that coat before. Janis Joplin. 1963. Haight-Ashbury. Those hippies knew how to...that's my coat!"
"You really should go," the man stressed, resting his palm against the girl's forehead. "Although, I don't remember this, so I suspect you don't. I was rather stubborn when I was you."
It was a moment before he understood what the man meant. "Ah."
"Ah," the other Doctor repeated in confirmation.
Meeting a future version of himself never failed to be awkward. He shifted his stance, letting his arms fall to his sides. "She's travelin' with you?"
"Yeah." His older self brandished his sonic screwdriver, gesturing over the girl's body and grimacing at what it revealed.
Already aware of her condition, he felt a sudden surge of anger at his future self for letting this happen. "How careless do I end up? You should have vaccinated her."
"No Gallifrey, remember? The TARDIS does her best." The Doctor in pin-stripes leaned over the girl as she moaned, fussing with the sheets to try and make her more comfortable. "Shhhh, love. You'll be all right soon."
The younger Doctor rolled his eyes, stating flatly, "She's going to die."
"No."
He balked at the look of determination on his older self's face. "You can't! She's too young! Ten years is not old enough to..."
"I rather think that's my decision. Don't you?" the Doctor in pin-stripes snapped. "Besides, we can't live by those rules anymore."
"But the risks..." He shook his head. "What were you doing here anyway?"
"Well, bit of shopping for the girls. But we must've landed earlier than I planned."
"Shopping? Oh, that must be lovely in the midst of an epidem--" he started, only to be interrupted by a familiar voice echoing through the room.
"Doctor!"
Awkwardly, he spun to face the room's entrance, mouth hanging open at the sight of the blonde running towards them. "Rose?"
She skidded to a halt, staring in shock at the man in leather. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" he retorted. "What are you doing here?"
"I came with you," she explained slowly.
"But you said no."
"Rose, I told you to stay in the TARDIS," scolded his future self, rising from the bed. "It's dangerous! Lots of germs and bacteria in here and you're..."
Sighing, Rose rolled her eyes. "It's always dangerous."
"So you say no to me, but yes to the pipsqueak in the suit?" the younger Doctor scoffed, folding his arms. "Typical. Just, typical."
"Oi! Careful," warned his pin-striped self. "You're gonna be me sooner than you think."
"Is it her? Did you find her?" Rose asked, tentatively approaching.
"Yes." The pin-striped Doctor grabbed her before she could reach the bed. "Rose, you've got to stay back."
She struggled in his grip. "But she's..."
"I know." He kissed the top of her head, prompting a raised eyebrow from his younger self. "This virus is deadly and very very easy to catch."
"But you..."
"You're human," the Doctor in leather pointed out.
"Your immune system can't fight this one," the Doctor holding her added softly. "Rose, I'm sorry."
She worried her lip, watching the feverish girl in the bed. "What about Hope?"
He gave her a small smile that he hoped was encouraging. "She'll regenerate."
"You don't know that," his younger self protested.
She glanced between them, not sure which to trust. "Doctor..."
"She will regenerate," the pin-striped Doctor repeated, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I'll make sure of it."
"How do plan on doing that?" his younger self argued. "It's not as if she's related."
"Well...it's...um..." the older Doctor stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"No." The younger Doctor shook his head in disbelief. "That should be..."
"Impossible? Yep."
"Then how...?"
"Well..." his older self drawled, making the implication clear.
"But...we can't! Not like that." The younger Doctor's eyes darted to Rose. "An' you...with a companion?"
"With Rose," the pin-striped Doctor murmured, imbuing the name with all the meaning his other self hadn't learned yet. "Honestly, was I really that dense?"
"Oi!" the younger Doctor protested, lurching forward with clenched fists.
"Stop it! Both of you!" Rose shouted, bringing silence to the ward.
It was unnerving seeing the same bashful expression on both faces, but Rose had long since come to terms with knowing two different versions of the same man.
"Right. Sorry," the pin-striped Doctor apologized, ducking his head. "Here's...here's the plan. Back to the TARDIS, my TARDIS that is. I'll carry Hope and you make sure Rose doesn't wander off."
Confused, the younger Doctor glanced at Rose. "Wander off?"
"Oh, you haven't experienced that little trait yet, have you?" the pin-striped Doctor observed, carefully lifting Hope from the bed. "Well, something to look forward to."
The Doctor in leather looked skeptically at his future incarnation's slim frame. "Are you sure you can carry her?"
"I'm quite all right, thank you," he replied crisply, leading the way. "Come on. Best get a move on. No time to waste."
As they exited the building, Rose caught up with her version, whispering, "Don't you have precautions against...meeting yourself?"
"Of course I do!" he retorted. "Well, usually. Um...you know that yellow light that's been flashing on the console?"
"The one next to the handbrake?"
"That's the one. Haven't gotten 'round to fixing it yet."
"So careless and lazy," remarked the younger Doctor.
"Yes, well, we can't all be angst-ridden lunatics with reliance issues."
"Oh, I dunno," Rose interjected. "You both have your fair share of issues."
"I've gotten better!" the older Doctor protested, craning his neck to see her. "I have, haven't I? Rose?"
Rose sighed. "Is it always like this when you meet yourself?"
"Yes," both Doctors agreed in unison and then glared at each other for good measure.
Hope lost track of time. All she knew was the fever that burned everywhere, leaving her delirious and alone in the darkness of her mind. She didn't know how long she spent lost, but suddenly a familiar presence was beside her, showing her the way to wakefulness. Groggily, she opened her eyes and her room swam into focus.
"Hush, now. You're home," her father murmured, brushing damp hair from her forehead.
"What happened?" she mumbled.
"You caught a little bug, that's all," he explained, trying to remain composed for her sake. "Remember that story I told you once, about the man who could change his face and the girl that stuck with him?"
She nodded. "The lonely god and the bad wolf?"
"Well...it's not so much a story as, well, the truth. That is, it's not a fictional story. Non-fiction, if you just..."
"Hang on," interrupted a gruff voice from the other side of the room. "You didn't even tell her 'bout regeneration?"
"I was working up to it!" her father snapped and instantly Hope knew she must be in danger. He squeezed her hand, continuing in a quieter tone, "The point is that I told you that story for a reason. Probably not obvious at the time, but I meant for you to remember it, so that when the time came..."
In the doorway, the younger Doctor leaned closer to Rose, whispering, "How do you put up with his rambling?"
She shrugged. "I dunno. Guess I'm use to it. Hardly notice anymore."
"An' you stuck with me?" he asked with disbelief. "Despite the rambling and the crazy hair and..."
"Yeah."
"Fan-tas-tic."
His huge grin still made her knees weak, but Rose only had a second to savor it before he turned away.
Resolutely stepping closer to the bed, he interrupted, "Look, we haven't got time for you to explain it now. 'Specially if your gonna go on like that."
"I wasn't...!"
"Listen, sweetheart," he continued, ignoring his future self. "You're going to change."
"Oh, yes. That's considerate. Thanks," muttered the pin-striped Doctor, sounding anything but pleased.
"Who're you?" Hope asked, peering at him with curiosity.
"I'm him," he explained, inclining his head toward his future self.
"He's me," her father confirmed with a sigh. "I was him. Then I changed."
"Oh, that's much clearer," the man in leather argued. "You're going to be fine, sweetheart." To the other Doctor, he added quietly, "If we both do it, there's a better chance."
"Will you?" the older Doctor asked, sounding surprised.
"'Course I will," he stated as if it had been obvious all along. "Can't let you cock it up, can I?"
The older Doctor grimaced. If it did go wrong, he doubted Rose would ever forgive him. "We have to do it now. Are you ready?"
They each took a deep breath, then in tandem they aligned their fingers on opposite sides of her head. The room filled with golden light. Rose shielded her eyes, squinting as she tried to see what was happening. As suddenly as it started, the blaze faded, revealing both of her Doctors leaning over the bed.
"Gah. That was a bit of a rush," the pin-striped Doctor exclaimed, shaking himself. "Ginger! She's...oh, that's just not fair. Do you know how many time I've...we've tried to be ginger? An' she gets it on the first go."
"Bit of a whiner too? Oh, I can't wait to be you," the younger Doctor said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Wait'll you find out the perks of being me," his future self stated throatily. "You can come in now, Rose. It's safe."
She swallowed hard, tentatively approaching the bed. "Is she...is she all right?"
"All right? Oh, she's fine. Perfect, I mean. Absolutely perfect. Well, she might have a bit of an identity crisis when she wakes up. You know how that goes. But she's young. She'll spring back."
Rose nodded, accepting everything with an ease that surprised only the younger Doctor. "Oh, she's beautiful," she murmured, brushing aside a strand of her daughter's new ginger hair.
"Of course she is." The Doctor in pin-stripes wrapped his arms around Rose, resting his chin on her shoulder. "She's still the same girl we've raised."
Watching them converse in hushed tones, the younger Doctor couldn't help feeling like an intruder. This was his future without question, but it certainly looked like it was meant for someone else. After all he'd done, how could this be what awaited him?
"I should go," he blurted, giving in to the sudden urge to run away from this idyllic future. "Before she wakes up."
"Do you have to?" Rose asked.
Surprised by how disappointed she sounded, he stared at her for a long moment before replying. "Yes."
"But..."
"He really should, Rose," interrupted his future self. "This is complicated enough as it is."
The younger Doctor grunted in surprise as he suddenly found himself enveloped in a tight hug. "Take care of yourself," Rose mumbled into his leather jacket, before releasing him. "'Til you meet up with me again."
The Doctor in pin-stripes shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. "I'll show you out."
"Same ship, isn't she?" the Doctor in leather countered, rolling his shoulders to try and regain his composure. "I can find my own way."
But his future self stopped him just outside the doorway. "Thing is, I remember being you. Wasn't so long ago, really. I thought nothing would ever be right again. And to that point, I have some advice for you. Tell her it travels in time."
"Why?"
"Just...trust me." He smiled. "You'll be glad you did."
His future self appeared skeptical, but nodded before walking briskly away down the hallway.
The Doctor in pin-stripes sighed and ran a hand over his face. He knew better than anyone what it would take to give that man hope for a future. "Always wondered why I went back," he commented upon reentering the room.
"What?" Rose asked, glancing up at him. "But you--"
"Wellll....didn't want you to think I was stupid. I just stepped outside and there you were. Had to say something clever." He grinned, rocking back on his heels. "I forget this. I have to. Timelines and all that. The TARDIS must have taken care of the rest."
Rose matched his grin with one of her own, patting the wall fondly. "Clever girl."