Chapter Eight: The End of a Song
Rose ran past patients, nurses, and doctors alike, trying to put as much space between herself and the rhinos as possible. The rhinos didn't seem to want to hurt anyone as far as she could tell, but she was taking no chances. The Doctor would know what to do, if she could just find him.
She started to yell, "Doctor!" before remembering that she was in a hospital full of doctors. She actually did call, "John!" down a couple of hallways, but none of the men who looked up at the name were her John.
"You couldn't have picked something more distinctive?" Rose muttered to herself as she peered into a break room.
He had to be here somewhere. He had to…
As she turned the corner she ran bang into an entirely leather-clad man and nearly bounced backwards off him. "Oh, watch it, will you?" she snapped in frustration, dashing around both him and his identical friend.
Neither of the leather men said a word, just let her pass and continued on their way.
Rose paused and frowned as she looked behind her to watch them walk side-by-side, their steps perfectly in sync. Something was off…
She heard a door open and whirled to face it. One of John's medical students was leaving a supply cupboard, rolling several oxygen tanks on a trolley. Rose brightened when she saw her. "Oh! You're one of John's students, yeah? What was your name?"
The student glanced at her quickly, then back to the oxygen tanks she was putting together. "Er…yeah. It's Martha. Martha Jones."
"I'm Rose. Have you seen John? I've lost him and I really need to find him."
"Yeah, he was just here." Martha pointed down the hall. "He's meeting with a patient in his office just down there. Fourth door on the left." She motioned to the oxygen tanks. "Sorry, but I really need to get these out…"
"Go ahead, Martha, thank you, thank you!"
Martha hurried away, rolling the cart. Rose turned around to start for John's office, but stopped. The two leather men she'd run into earlier were stepping inside the fourth door on the left.
Rose's stomach dropped. Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong.
She ran.
John watched as the leather men advanced, blocking the door and trapping him between them and Finnegan.
He looked back to his elderly patient. "You can't possibly be serious."
"I'm afraid I'm perfectly serious," said Finnegan calmly, riffling through her handbag. John watched with wide eyes as she withdrew a coloured bendy straw. "I've even got a little straw."
John shut his eyes for a moment and shook his head in confusion. "But you're talking like you're some sort of alien! Perhaps a visit from psychiatric—"
"Oh, but I am an alien," Finnegan continued, "Which is exactly the problem. You see, I was only salt deficient because I am so very good at absorbing it. I need to assimilate and become human, and for that, I'm going to need your blood."
John's eyebrows rose. "You're an alien."
"I believe we've established that, Dr. Tyler."
"A blood-sucking alien? I'm talking to a blood-sucking alien on the moon?"
"You're quite thick, aren't you?" said Finnegan in a bored voice. She flicked her straw as if testing for bendiness. "Slabs, hold him."
But before John could protest or the Slabs could grab him, the door burst open with a crash. There stood Rose, sonic screwdriver held aloft in her hands, her eyes alight with righteous fury.
"Rose?" John said, bewildered. He started to rush towards her, but one of the Slabs held up a hand to block his path.
"And who are you?" Finnegan demanded in exasperation.
Rose leveled the screwdriver at her, voice brimming with anger. "I'm Rose Tyler, and if you don't step away from him right now, I'm going to have to use this."
Finnegan eyed the screwdriver suspiciously. "And what exactly is that?"
"It's sonic," Rose replied briskly. "Completely sonic. John, get behind me."
Still wearing an expression of utter bewilderment, John edged around the Slab to Rose's side. "Rose, she's an alien. A real, live blood-sucking alien!"
"You don't say," Rose said, not taking her eyes off Finnegan. "You're who the rhinos are looking for, yeah? A plasmavore?"
"Oh, aren't you a clever one?" Finnegan snapped.
"Rhinos, vampires, what's next, body-snatchers?" John said, now beyond indignant. "How many aliens are there around here? Has this place got an ET department or something? And what is that?" He pointed at the screwdriver.
Finnegan squinted at it for a moment before her eyes widened. "That's just a screwdriver! Slabs!"
Rose bit her lip. "Well, worth a shot anyway." She snatched John's hand, and at the touch he thought he felt something like electricity shoot up his arm. Her eyes met his, and she grinned a wide, cheeky smile. "Run!"
Before John could even register it, they were running hand-in-hand, with Rose towing him behind her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd run like this, pumping legs fueled by equal parts thrill and terror, but it felt incredibly familiar and more right than anything else had in a long time.
"After them!" came Finnegan's cry.
"But what are they?" John asked incredulously as Rose led him around the corner. "And you never said, what is that thing?"
"They're aliens from another world," Rose said between breaths, "And this is your sonic screwdriver."
"My—my what?"
Screams erupted behind them as the Slabs chased after them, shoving people aside as they went.
"Hide, hide, hide, got to hide…" Rose muttered as she pulled him down another hall. "Here!" She opened a door marked "Radiology," pushed John inside to a room with a giant x-ray, and shut the door behind them.
"What are you doing?" John demanded as Rose flicked through the sonic screwdriver's settings, brow furrowed.
"I think it's…yeah, this one." The blue tip flashed, and the door locked with a click. Rose leaned against the wall sectioning off the x-ray controls from the rest of the room and let herself slide down until she was sitting. Her chest heaved with the effort from running. "That should hold for a bit while we change you back." She reached into her shirt, pulled out the silver fob watch, and yanked it off from around her neck.
John sat next to her. "Rose, what's going on? Has the world gone completely mad?"
Rose let out a small smile. "Just a bit. Do you remember those dreams you were telling me about? About being the Doctor, and travelling around the universe?"
"Yes, but I hardly see what that has to do with—"
"They were real. All of it. The Doctor's not a character. He's real, and you're him."
John blinked, then drew a small light from his lab coat pocket and shined it in her eyes.
"What're you doing?" Rose demanded, swatting the light away in annoyance.
"Checking for concussion. You must have hit your head when the building was transported to the moon…and I cannot believe I just said that." He put the light away with a frown. "Nothing. You're fine. I think I'm going mad. Or you're going mad. Or we're both going mad. Or the entire world's gone mad, and Rose, it's okay, because I know the best psychiatrists in London and we can fix this."
Rose shook her head. "Nobody's mad. It's true. You're the Doctor. You've got to remember! We're being chased by this—this family, and they're looking for you, and you said the only way to hide from them was to become human for awhile. And now," she held up the watch, fingers resting on the clasp to open it. "We're going to change you back, so you can save the hospital."
John pressed his hands over Rose's, sandwiching the watch shut. He stared at her with something akin to fear. She couldn't possibly be serious, but her face said she definitely was. "You think those dreams are real. You really do."
"They are," Rose said solemnly. "We're on the moon, with giant space rhinos and blood-sucking aliens. Is this really all that unbelievable after that? Just take the watch, Doctor."
"Don't call me that. I'm not some alien who travels all over the galaxy. I didn't even think aliens existed until a few minutes ago!"
"You are him!"
John rubbed his face in frustration. "But I'm not! I can't be! They're just dreams!"
"If they're just dreams, then how do I know this? Ever dreamed about a planet where the waves are frozen in place? Ever had a dream about apple grass?"
And despite the fact that apple grass didn't exist, he could smell it, sweet and tangy and powerfully real. "But I haven't written it down—I haven't told you any of that!"
"You don't have to, because I lived through it! With you. With the Doctor." John still looked sceptical, and Rose burst out, "Gallifrey! Ever had a dream about an orange sky? Silver leaves?"
John flinched. He could see it—the glimmer of silver like a forest on fire in the morning, sounding like a song in the warm breeze. "Stop it."
"A second sun," she continued, "that rose in the south, you said…"
"Stop it!"
"That's your planet. And you know it, don't you?"
John said nothing for a long moment. He could see Gallifrey, could see the Citadel, its spires dwarfed only by the mountains of Solace and Solitude…
No. This was mad. "But I'm just a normal bloke! I mean…look, Rose, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't…take you to Mars or back in time. But I love you! Shouldn't that be enough? Aren't I good enough?"
"Yes!" Rose said immediately. "And it's not about the travelling. I love the travelling, but I love you more."
"Me or the Doctor?"
Rose let out a small, frustrated groan. "You—both of you! I can't love just one; you're the same person! You're just not all of yourself right now. You are the Doctor and we need you. I need you." She wrenched her hands out of his and pressed the watch into his palm. She looked up at him, eyes pleading. "So I'm sorry, I really am, but you've got to open it." She closed his fingers around the watch. "Before those leathery blokes find us."
"Oh, you mean the Slabs?" John rattled off on instinct as he gripped the watch. "Nasty things, Slabs. Basic slave drones, always travel in pairs. And these ones are made completely out of leather, solid leather all the way through, can you believe? I mean, really—" John covered his own mouth with his hand, eyes wide in terror. His mouth had moved entirely of its own accord.
"See?" Rose beamed, eyes lighting up in recognition.
John looked between the watch in his hand and Rose. There had to be a rational explanation. "But—but this is mad, Rose. I can't be him. I mean, I've got a life! I've got a job, a flat, a beautiful, brilliant wife—"
"Thanks," Rose said sadly.
His hand not holding the watch flailed around as he spoke. "And you just want to…to throw all that away? Everything we've got? You want that all to end?" His eyes widened in realisation as his voice dwindled to a flat whisper. "That's who you missed, wasn't it? All those weeks ago. When we got back from our honeymoon, you were so sad because you missed him." He gave a dry, humorless laugh. "I thought you were cheating on me. No, turns out you were in love with a character in my dreams."
"Until I realised you were him!"
"When I showed you my drawings of my dreams…"
"Memories. They're memories. Your memories."
John could see tears forming in Rose's eyes, and for a moment he was glad. She had no idea what she was asking him to do.
"Right, then. So let's say I open this watch. I let the Doctor out. Then what happens to me?"
"You remember. You wake up."
"I die, Rose. That's what you're asking me to do. I open that watch and some new man is going to saunter away, and I'm going to be dead."
"No you won't!" Rose insisted, tears spilling now. "You'll be fine, you're not a character, you're still him! You're not dying—you're waking up!"
John felt his resolve slipping, but he pressed on. "Waking up from what? I've got a life; I've got memories! I can't possibly be the Doctor. I mean, I'm real—I know I'm real. I am real." He ignored the orange sky blazing in his memory and focused instead on names, figures, proof of his existence. "I'm not the Doctor. I'm John, John Tyler né Smith. I had a mother named Verity and a father named Sydney. I went to Coal Hill School in Shoreditch and got my degree at—"
Rose pressed her fingers over his lips. "How did we meet?"
John gaped back at her and she ran her hand over his cheek. "How did we meet?"
"Yeah," she pleaded. "You say you've got memories; tell me how we met."
"Well, I…" he trailed off for a moment. "You were working in a shop. And I went there to…to buy a new jumper, that's right. And…you, er…You asked me if I were a student. I told you well done, that made sense."
Rose pressed her lips together as more tears spilled down her cheeks. Her mascara was running.
"And then…" John swallowed. He thought he remembered it so clearly—it was one of the most important moments in his life, after all—but he felt like he was looking at the memory through a thick glass. He could see the shapes, but the edges were all fuzzy and blurred. "And then we went out together after work. For pizza and chips. And I asked you out, but you said you had a boyfriend. Mickey the Idiot," he said, proud to have remembered that detail. "But I already knew I needed you, so I asked you again." Rose's lips were pressed tight together, and she was shaking with silent sobs. John used his thumb to wipe the tears off her cheek, wondering why his own voice was cracking with emotion. "And you left him and ran away with me and…and…" His head hurt, and he felt a sudden surge of anger. "Why are you doing this to me, Rose?"
Rose sniffed and smiled ever-so-slightly at him. "Because that is exactly how we met. Just some of the details are missing." She pressed her cheek to his chest, right over his heart. "That's how I met the Doctor. How I met you."
"But he's not real! He's just a dream! He's—you want him," he realised. "You really don't want me, you want him. You want a fantasy." He pushed her away. "And you said he was going to be human 'for awhile.' Which means you've been planning this." He stared at her, disbelieving, heart breaking with betrayal. "You're not just asking me to die—you've been waiting to kill me."
"No!" Rose protested again. "Look, I told you, you're not dying. You've got his memories; they're just—blocked or something. And you're not just a character. How many times do I have to say it? You are the Doctor, I know it! If you open that watch, you're not going to die. You're just going to be…more of yourself."
John was silent for a long moment, staring at the watch in his hand.
"Do you trust me?" Rose said softly.
He didn't answer for a long moment. "…Yeah."
"Then, please. I'm so, so sorry, but you've got to open it so you can remember how to save these people." She tucked the sonic screwdriver in his lab coat pocket, then patted his chest where the pocket lay. "That's what you do. You save people and fight monsters and this hospital needs that. You've got to open it."
John couldn't pinpoint exactly when he'd started believing Rose's story, but he knew now that he did. And every part of him screamed no. "And go back to what? To—to running all over the universe, waiting for you to die? We've got a life here. I thought I made you happy—"
"You did!"
"I've got a job. We've got a flat. We've got a future. We can grow old together…He can't give you that. I can."
Rose bit her lip. "He—you said I might not want to change you back. This is what you were talking about, yeah?" Her jaw set. "Well, Doctor, if we were stuck, or if you really wanted to settle somewhere, I would do it, no hesitation, because I love you. I said forever, and I meant it. If you can tell me you would want that when you're all of yourself again, then we can do it, and I'll be happy. But you've been travelling for 900 years—probably more, if you really have been lying about your age—and I'm not going to make you give that up so I can have what you think is the perfect little domestic human life. We'd both go mad."
John felt his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and he lowered his head in defeat. "Oh, Rose…" His voice broke. "I don't want to go."
Suddenly the door crashed open as a Slab broke down the door, and both John and Rose ducked from the flying splinters.
"There you are," simpered Finnegan. Her Slabs marched inside towards them as they got to their feet.
John moved in front of Rose like it was a reflex, hands up in surrender. "Look, we don't want any trouble—"
But one of the Slabs wrenched him away from Rose as the other Slab seized her. They both struggled in the Slabs' grips, panicked and unable to break free.
"Let her go!"
"Let him go!"
Finnegan giggled. "Oh, you're both just darling. But I'm afraid I can't let either of you go, not with you knowing what I am. It's all right, though. I've still got my little straw." She pulled the straw out from her bag, and both John and Rose twisted and fought in the Slabs' grasps, gazing at it fearfully. "I'm afraid this is going to hurt," Finnegan continued, bringing the straw closer to her lips. "But if it's any consolation, the dead don't tend to remember." She looked at the Slab holding Rose. "Hold her steady. I'll take the one with the brains and the dangerous toy first."
Rose let out a pained cry as the Slab snatched a fistful of her hair with one hand and yanked her head back to better expose her neck.
Terror flooded John's veins like he'd never known it before. "NO! Don't touch her!"
Finnegan plunged the straw in the side of Rose's neck, and Rose winced. "It's all right, dear," Finnegan called to him, "You won't have to live with the memory of seeing her like this for long."
But this did nothing to appease John. He thrashed in the Slab's grip like an injured tiger. "Please, you can't! Not her, please, not her!"
Rose tried to fight back, but the Slab had her at too awkward an angle to do much more than flail weakly. Finnegan lowered her lips to the straw in Rose's neck, and began to slurp, like a child enjoying a milkshake.
"Doctor, help…help me…" murmured Rose weakly.
"ROSE! ROSE, NO!" John struggled, begging, "Please, Miss Finnegan, I'll do anything. I'll give you anything! I've got money; you can have all of it, just stop!" Finnegan ignored him, taking another steady slurp of Rose's blood. "You can have me! Take me, take me instead, please!"
But Finnegan paid him no mind. Rose's eyes glazed over as she stared, listless, at the ceiling. Her fists unclenched to hang loosely at her side. Her eyelids drooped shut.
And suddenly, John realised there was nothing he could do to save Rose Tyler.
He had forgotten about the watch, but now it burned scorching hot in his hand, and John could feel stars blazing and planets dying and a cold, absolute fury.
John Tyler couldn't save Rose. But the Doctor certainly could.
John let the Doctor's rage sweep over him, and opened the watch.
Outside the radiology room, down flights of stairs and several hallways, a young Indian medical student inhaled and exhaled deeply. Her eyes flashed open as her lips twisted into a horrible, predatory grin.
"Time Lord…"
A/N: I love a good cliffhanger; don't you?