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Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything in the Who or Torchwood universe - I only wish I did. Nothing belongs to me, everything belongs to the creators. I just like to play around in the universe. :)
Author's Note: I would personally like to thank Liv16 for being the best Beta an author could hope to find. She's so warm and kind and gives the most brilliant suggestions when I get stuck. The opportunity in working with her inspires me every day to keep writing, to keep working, to keep growing as a first-time writer. She also helped me transition a few scenes with her brilliant writing suggestions and helped me with dialogue in a few places when I got stuck. She is completely lovely and I feel genuinely thrilled and thankful to work with her.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy.
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"It has begun," he rasped coldly, "but we've arrived too early."
Leaning back in his chair, he thrummed his fingers together as he swallowed down his anger. Erupting in a violent rage wouldn't change the fact that they had simply arrived too early in her time line, and he would need to wait patiently for things to happen in the right order. Glaring at the Mmicus, the copycat race of minions he'd had to endure for company, for servitude, for centuries, he was once again reminded and disgusted at the inadequacy of their technology. Cursing them and the Time Lords and the whole of the universe and creation again, he mentally reminded himself once more of the end result.
He'd touched her - his eyes closed at the memory - he could still feel the warmth of her skin, and the pulsating enormity within, through the cold in his limbs. It was definitely her. He'd finally found the right Rose. The companion of the Doctor, he thought to himself in disgust. It had taken years, centuries even, of travelling different parallel universes to find the one that the Time Lord frequented through. Searching for them had been arduous and gruelling, even cruel at times - as if the universe was fighting against him and his plan, and he had been forced into infinite patience with the knowledge and reminding promise of what could be achieved once he found her.
Finding the Doctor's Rose had been an insultingly easy task after the ship picked up the temporal energy absorbed and exhausted from the TARDIS. He felt like laughing, he was so pleased. A time rift on Earth. The idea of it was so absurd, it was ludicrous. It was something he hadn't even imagined, something so extraordinarily uncommon - the fact that something that should never exist, seemingly did exist, so blatantly out in the open for all to see, that locating the Doctor had been so amazingly simple in the grand scheme of things.
How did the Doctor keep the Earth protected while such a temporal rift existed? Wasn't the universe aware of it's existence? Or of it's potential?
Once upon a time, the Eye of Harmony had been the sole power source for a TARDIS, and as such, the TARDIS's of old had exhausted a specific signature scent. He had spent so many years in thought, trying to imagine what the Doctor was forced into using as a substitute power source for his TARDIS, that the possibilities of locating his specific TARDIS signature was seemingly impossible. Similar to the Earth saying of finding a needle in a haystack, without knowing what the needle might actually look like.
The effort he'd put into trying to locate an unidentified signature smell... he felt like weeping. When all this time, the TARDIS signature scent remained exactly the same as it ever had been. But no, he wouldn't do that. Not when he'd finally found them. Found her.
Although the Mmicus ship had been designed for jumping parallel universes, the ability to travel through time was a difficult and trying process. In actuality, it was sheer luck that they had arrived in Rose's direct time line at all. So they'd arrived a little early, so what. He'd been patient in the early days of Time, and so much longer afterwards, and he could remain patient a while longer, yet. It wouldn't be for nothing. Oh, no.
Things would change, so drastically, once his people were returned. A grin slowly made it's way across his thin features, stretching his skin tightly as he felt his lips spread over his sharp teeth. He inhaled slowly. Oh yes, things would certainly change.
He stood lithely from his chair and walked down one of the seemingly endless dark corridors, his steps carefully placed and soft as he crept towards a specific cell. The two humans inside were cuddled closely together in a dark, and he didn't even try to mask the sneer of disgust that crossed his face at their physical closeness. To cling, to need, to feel - he was revolted by it. His aversion to emotional comfort and his distaste for humanity only grew as he listened to the whispered hopes and reassurances that the two passed to one another.
"They'll come," the woman whispered to the boy. "I know it, they'll come for us." The boy - well, almost man, he conceded - didn't answer, but he did squeeze her hands together tightly in his own.
It made him...curious.
"What makes you so sure?" he boomed, his voice echoing in the dark, thunderous and warning, and both the woman and the boy jumped in fright.
"Who...Who's there?" the boy stuttered. "I don't see anything, do you Jackie?"
The woman, her mother, whimpered and stood up; backing against the furthest wall as if to escape the unknown. "No...it's too dark."
He chuckled then, and watched in amusement as they both stiffened against the sound. His presence made the darkness wrap them in a cold chill, and it wasn't long before they were both shivering - torn between fright and cold. They were afraid - terrified even - and he bathed in it, like a child standing in the warmth of the sun.
"What do you want with us?" the boy yelled, his bravery almost admirable if not for the tremble in his voice.
"You aren't here for my amusement," he quietly confided, his voice now eerie and thin instead of thunderous and booming. He watched them carefully, noticing that they seemed even more aware of the darkness now than before. Their fear was palpable, and he breathed in it's scent, closing his eyes as he shuddered in pleasure.
"Why then?" the woman asked, her eyes wide in the dark. She couldn't see him, as he currently presented himself as nothing more than a mass of dark shadows, but the way they searched out his presence with their human eyes - wide and desperate - he found it amusing. Little did they know the mind manipulation he had unleashed within them. To see, or not see in this case, what they most feared was always intriguing to him. Apparently, in this case, what couldn't be seen was far more frightening than what could be physically imagined, and he basked in their fear, like a plant to sunlight.
"You have no idea, Jackie," her name sounded foreign to his lips and he cringed, "at how many Earths I've travelled to find your daughter."
"My daughter?" she whispered, shaken.
"What do you want with Rose," the boy shouted, running up to the bars and rattling them. "Who are you? Why do you have us locked in here?"
"Mickey, don't!" Jackie choked, terrified.
He laughed cruelly, relishing in listening to the acceleration of their beating hearts.
"Who am I? Have you truly not figured it out yet?"
Mickey frowned and Jackie pleaded with him to come back away from the bars. He watched in silence as Mickey slumped backwards and joined Jackie against the wall. Her arms clamped around Mickey's arm and the boy winced.
"Wouldn't have bothered asking if we knew who you were," Mickey said sullenly
"Who I am is not your concern. It's what I am that should interest you."
"We already know you're an alien," Mickey said roughly.
He smiled viciously.
"But I'm not."
The two humans gaped. "You're human?" Jackie gasped.
He sneered in disgust. "Of course not."
Mickey's face screwed up in confusion. "What are you, then, if you aren't alien and you aren't human?"
His voice was thunderous once again. "I am what you fear. I was born out of anger and terror and hate and war. I am the shadows in the darkness, the coldness in the black. I am your worst thought and your worst memory. I am what's hidden in your nightmares." He paused, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. "Imagine your worst, if you will, and know that it would run screaming from me."
Jackie let out a sob and Mickey's chin trembled.
He tilted his head in fascination. "And I am going to use your daughter. She's the key to all of this. She's going to bring it all back."
"Bring...bring what back?" Jackie whimpered.
"The Time War."
Both of the humans gasped.
"Rose can't do that!" Jackie gasped. "She's only my little girl. She's just my little girl."
"What makes you think that Rose can do that?" Mickey demanded.
He smiled thinly, his eyes blazing and fierce against the darkness he walked in.
"Because I know what she will become." He voice lingered in the shadows. "We've arrived too early in her time line, and so we must wait until she's ready."
"Ready for what?" Mickey asked.
"You stay away from my daughter!" Jackie yelled, as she huddled behind Mickey.
He only laughed again, malevolent and mercilessly, as he crept back down the hall. He needed to check up on a few things before his next confrontation with the girl.
...
Rose dropped down heavily to the ground, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath, her head spinning and her stomach churning. Her mouth felt dry and she desperately wished for the pounding in her ears to stop playing havoc on her eardrums. The Doctor, now crouched next to her as Jack anxiously hovered at her feet, kept throwing darted, worried glances towards him over her head, seemingly ignoring the fact that she could see him do so, before turning his attention directly on her once again.
"So what you're saying is..." Rose could hardly think it, much less say it. Her head felt like a swollen mush of cotton ball. "What you're telling me is that..."
The Doctor's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he reached out for Rose's hand, giving it a tight squeeze as his fingers encircled her palm. "We did not bury your mum today."
Rose's breath hitched, her eyes widening in disbelief as she looked up at the Doctor, pleadingly without the use of words for him to tell her the truth. A spark of hope had seeded itself into her chest and she mentally pushed against it, keeping it at bay, afraid of how much more it would hurt, when that hope was torn away once again.
"You mean, my mum's not dead after all?" Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks and she bit her lower lip to keep herself from saying more. There were so many questions at the tip of her tongue, but she didn't want to ask them - not yet, not until she knew for sure. Not until she could believe whatever answer he would tell her. Voicing them would make them real, and she wasn't a believer, yet. She was hanging onto the edge of a precipice, clinging to hope and terrified to fall.
He was fighting with himself on how to best answer her, she could tell. His face was hopeful even though his brow was furrowed. He put his arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her towards him. His coat draped partially around her as she leaned into him and she found herself once again lulled by the scent of him. Wind and fire and ice - she honestly didn't know how a person could smell of such things, but he somehow did.
"I don't want to get your hopes up, Rose," he said to her gently, as if fearful she would fly into hysterics at any moment, "but I don't want to be untruthful either."
"Just be honest with me, Doctor. It's all I've ever needed from you," she told him sincerely. "Is my mum dead?"
His shoulder's tensed. "I don't know the answer to that," he told her, his voice thick.
Slowly, she nodded, accepting that as truth.
"And the person in the coffin?"
"It's not Jackie."
Her mouth mimed the words that her brain refused to compute. "It's not my mum."
"But, it does mean that there is a possibility that your mum is out there alive, fine and happy and has got her wits about her and maybe has a plan to get herself home..." The Doctor stopped.
"Weeelllll... I am talking about Jackie here..." he chuckled softly to himself. "There is the possibility that she's out there and alive. Possibly fine."
Rose tried to let that sink in. But the flip side is what terrified her.
"But she may not be alive."
The Doctor fell silent, which was answer enough. "The truth?" he finally asked her.
She nodded shakily. "Always, the truth."
He nodded into her hair. "There is as equal a possibility that we might not find her."
"And that she might be dead," she whispered.
"Yes," he rasped, as if the answer itself might break her and send her over the edge. "But we can focus on the off chance that she's fine and that we'll find her. I promise, Rose, I'll do everything I can do to find her."
Incredulous and scared to what he was telling her, she began to tremble and she clung to the Doctor's hands around her, in an attempt to keep them around her - to keep him close. The Doctor's eyes sparkled and he gave her a half squeeze, his face hopeful. His hands were warm and dry as he gently pulled free a hand from her tight grasp to reach into his coat pocket. He pulled out a handkerchief and gently mopped up her cheeks for her. Rose inhaled sharply against the sting and the Doctor's eyes narrowed in concern as he peered closer to get a better look at what was causing her pain. She tried to smile at him, to show him it was nothing more than a bit of wind burn. All she needed was a good week of lotion. Her cheeks felt agonizingly raw from the cold and wet and crying, and unfortunately, even though his handkerchief was soft, it still felt brutal against her swollen face.
"I've got a salve in the TARDIS infirmary that'll fix that right up," he told her softly, gently thumbing her cheek. His thumb felt cool and soothing against the flaming burn on her skin. Her eyes drifted shut momentarily as she enjoyed the feel of his hand on her cheek, and she nodded her thanks to him for the salve that awaited her.
Feeling him withdraw, she reluctantly opened her eyes, daring a quick glance at Jack as the Doctor put the handkerchief back into his pocket. She immediately regretted doing so. He'd obviously been watching their small moment together and was now looking down at the two of them with a wide smile across his face. She fought the urge to make a face at him, but the flush in her cheeks made it pretty obvious his assumptions were correct.
Needing to change the subject, she asked, "What about Mickey?"
The Doctor quirked an eyebrow as he stood. "I honestly... don't know." He looked over at Jack, who shrugged. "I suppose we'll have to go and check him out as well." The idea didn't really appeal, but she knew it was necessary and so she agreed. The Doctor stepped closer to Rose, reaching out to her as if to pull her up.
Her head was still spinning, and everything was slightly out of focus, and he grasped her firmly and tugged, pulling her up. She felt like a newborn deer, as unsteady as she was on her feet, and fell against his chest, disoriented and dizzy.
"Easy there...take it easy," he murmured, easing her away from him slightly, allowing her to get her feet under control as he studied her carefully to see if she was alright. The space in between them grew cold and she suddenly felt very alone. She didn't want to be away from him - she needed him close - there was too much space in between.
It was if someone was holding opposite ends of a magnet apart - the pull was simply too strong. Leaning back towards him, into him, Rose slowly brought her arms around him and pulled at him to hold her close - closer - desperate to feel him against her. She needed to be held, needed the comfort that only he could provide. To her great relief, his arms finally and equally tightened around her and he tucked her head into his neck, taking care to hold her as she begged to be held. For a moment, it was as if time didn't matter. It didn't have to move forward; there were no expectations or things that had to be done. Problems didn't have to exist and finding answers could be left for another day. The sound of the rain was soothing against her back and she felt her heart begin to regulate and her breathing became easier, as she listened to his own double heartbeats and steady breathing against her - a need of constant regularity and calm, and it gave her peace. She could feel his warm breath upon her shoulder and goosebumps covered her flesh from the heat of it.
"My mum really may not be dead?" she murmured quietly into his shoulder, knowing that he would never intentionally lie to her, but she needed to know - needed him to be sure. She was reeling from the news, and jumbled. It was as if the laws of nature were no longer in effect anymore. Up wasn't up and down wasn't down. Rhyme and reason were out the window, and the only constant she could cling to, was holding her tightly in his arms, and even as she thought it, her heart was breaking, because he wasn't constant, and he was most certainly not hers. He was too big, too great, and he would eventually leave her, like everyone else...
Taking a deep breath, desperate to leave those painful and deeply hidden secret thoughts behind, she lifted her eyes to meet his. "Doctor?"
He shook his head slowly at her, his nose touching hers in a gentle brush as he told her "no", his eyes lighting up ever so slightly and a grin gently made it's way across his face. And at that, his smile, she crumbled. The thought of being left alone was her worst fear, and the past few days that fear had been her reality, and the truth just didn't want to sink in.
"She's not dead?" she said, trying to get the words to make sense in her mind. She repeated it. "She's not dead?"
Rose felt a brutal stab of jubilation. Brutal because when one was caught up in a nightmare such as this, hope was a cruel game to play. Hope could break her, and she wasn't strong enough to gain it, only to have it taken again.
But her Doctor wouldn't play with her like this, would never lie to her, would never be so cruel as to do this to her. Rose's heart thumped wildly against her chest and she felt a numb tingling in her arms. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she half-sobbed into the Doctor who had wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, pulling her once again, flush against him. While she let go and lost the little grip she'd had on trying to reign in her grief.
Her Joy and hope now mixed in amongst her pain and loss, made her feel like she had no control anymore. Not over herself, not over her emotions, and certainly not over the situation. She turned her head to the side and the Doctor's rough jacket lapel stung as it scraped against her raw cheeks. Rose didn't care. The pain on her cheek only added to the pain she felt churning within.
Sucking in a deep breath of fresh air, similar to how she assumed a fish would after being thrown back into the water from a fisherman, she glanced up at Jack, her heart going to him as she watched him blink back tears as he watched her fall to pieces in the Doctor's arms. She wanted to give him a smile to let him know that she was alright. She knew that the situation called for her to tell him that she was okay, or at least was going to be. But she couldn't. She could only stare at him with wide, blurry eyes as she hiccuped and clung to the Doctor, like a small child.
"How can she not be dead? How did we get this wrong?" she choked tearfully to them. Neither man could respond, although the Doctor did begin patting her, instead of rubbing circles along her back and shoulders. He tightened his hold on her, trying to reassure her as best he could, and she found that it did help. She calmed down enough to choke out the words that were whirling through her mind on a constant loop.
"Where is my mum then, Doctor?"
He stiffened slightly and stopped patting her, moving his hands to her cheeks as he said, "I really don't know, Rose. But I promise you," his eyes grew very dark, "... we're going to find out." He looked her over carefully for a few more moments, his eyes searching for something, ensuring that she believed him, she supposed, and that she wasn't going to fall apart if he let her go, before he stepped away and walked back to the casket. His usual swagger was back as he twirled his sonic screwdriver in his hand before running it over the length of the coffin, this time with a determined expression and slightly mad twinkle in his eye that wasn't there moments ago. This was her Doctor - armed with information and ready to get on with it.
Rose didn't know whether to laugh or cry or to simply pass out from exhaustion. She didn't feel happy - that was for sure, but she wasn't in agony anymore either. Yet, she'd surfaced from her numb comatose state, but she still couldn't say that any particular feeling in general came to the forefront of her mind. It felt as if she'd exhausted all her ability to feel anything, and so she was simply existing for the time being. Void-like, she decided. She felt void-like. Stumbling slightly, she felt Jack's arm slip around her waist, tucking her securely under his arm as he lead her over to the Doctor, who was now crouched down.
She stared at the coffin, and asked, "Well, if that isn't my mum, there..." she pointed. "Then who is in there?"
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Whoever it is, has got the cell molecular reconstruction down to an art form. Everything is exactly the same - skin, hair, shape, every base pair of chromosomes and every gene - they all match Jackie - well, it is Jackie, in a way, I suppose - just not as we know her."
"What do you mean, it's mum?" Rose asked. "I thought we already established that this wasn't mum."
He was already nodding to her, a devilish grin upon his expression as he explained, clearly falling into his element. "We've established that this body is not your mother's body, Rose, but..." he paused, pulling his eyeglasses out of his pocket and perched them on his nose as he continued to explain.
"Every pair of chromosomes are exactly the same as our Jackie - all 23 pairs. Even her DNA is an exact replica of our Jackie as far as human genetics go. But what enabled me to discover that this was not our Jackie, are the additional pairs of chromosomes that this body carries. These genes don't seem to have a specific job... in fact, they seem to morph continually, which made them difficult to locate originally. When I scanned them with the sonic screwdriver earlier, they were constantly changing under the light rays, never staying the same. I'm not sure the type of alien this could be - I'm not even sure I've ever seen it before - but I don't see it as being anything other than alien."
"You said the genes continue to morph?" Jack called.
The Doctor grinned. "Oh yes, it's brilliant! Beautiful, even!"
Rose huffed. "What does the morphing genes have anything to do with my mum?" she asked moodily, needing the Doctor to reach a point.
He sobered quickly. "The morphing chromosomes indicate to me that the alien has the ability to take the form of another being with less chromosome pairs than it, such as humans. Jack have you any ideas?" the Doctor called back over to Jack, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Well the only alien species with morphing abilities I've come across during my time travelling is the Mmicus - and let me tell you, they were an... interesting species. You should have seen me and a friend of mine stumble across a crew of em'. Definitely made "messing around with oneself" take on a whole new meaning."
Rose stared at him incredulously.
"What?" he defended, eyes twinkling. "It was enjoyable. For everyone. You can ask me!" he chuckled at his own joke before his expression grew more serious. "One of the nicer memories back then. And it was really back then - way in the past, when things weren't so pleasant... right before... no during the Time War..." Jack trailed off as he realized what he was saying, staring wide-eyed at the Doctor. Rose started to open her mouth.
"The Mmicus," the Doctor said thoughtfully, his face full of shadows and yet remained impassive as he lifted his hand to rest against his forehead, as if to ward off a sudden headache. Absently, with his other hand, he once again picked out his screw driver and started fiddling with the cogs and gears, pushing things at random.
"Doctor?" Jack questioned worriedly, but was ignored as the Doctor lost himself to his past, deep in thought. Jack and Rose shared mixed questioning looks but stayed quiet.
The three were silent together for what seemed like an eternity, but really was only several minutes before the Doctor started mumbling to himself.
"The Mmicus? Could it be? That would mean they'd have to have travelled forward in time, but that doesn't make any sense. They didn't have time travelling capabilities back then, and besides, they were lost in the war, innocent casualties along with... No... That can't be... How would they even... No... just...no." The Doctor seemed to shake himself, ridding himself of memories lost and coming back to himself.
"Nice idea Jack, but I think we're looking at something more realistic. Something genetically engineered or grown, maybe, or a species we've simply not come across before," the Doctor said staring Rose dead in the eyes. "Nonetheless, I think we can all be assured that this is indeed not our Jackie."
He gave Rose a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes at all. Talk of the war and the memories it brought up were always rough on him. When he did speak of the Time War, which wasn't often at all, but it always left her feeling more curious than she'd begun. Perhaps Jack would be more forthcoming, if she asked him about it. The Mmicus sounded like fascinating creatures... if not as perverse as the Captain could sometimes be. She tried to smile back to the Doctor, not wanting him to grow more concerned at her lack of response simply because her mind wandered. She was positive her return was as forced as his attempt had been. Perhaps now was the best time to talk to him about the thing that had been bothering her, still.
"I knew, Doctor."
"Knew what?" he asked somewhat absently.
"I just knew it couldn't be her - it just didn't feel right - it was deep guttural feeling that told me she was still alive," Rose said, staring deep into the Doctor's concerned face.
The Doctor peered at Rose, speculatively. "And that leads us to another question. About how you, Rose Tyler, knew that this wasn't your mother."
Rose stared back at him, a prickling sensation making it's way up her neck. Jack turned and looked at her in confusion as well. Rose suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable, like she had been thrust on stage without a script, but she didn't know why. She had nothing to be embarrassed for. How was she supposed to put an explanation to these strange occurrences? It wasn't like she knew what was going on. She definitely wasn't enjoying learning about the things she found herself knowing.
"I don't understand it myself, Doctor," Rose said with a sigh. "All I know is that I felt sick and overcome with this feeling - this bad feeling - and my stomach was turning over, and when I reached out it was like an electric shock... as if a power surge was running through my body. Starting in my finger tips and bursting throughout my body in a sudden rush... It's hard to explain but it hit me like a gut feeling; I just knew." She looked at the Doctor through saddened, confused eyes.
"That still doesn't explain how you would have known..." the Doctor said, scratching the back of his neck with his hand, his attention now completely focused on Rose. "You are 100% human, which means that you simply don't have the internal workings to produce telepathic connection."
Jack was nodding as the Doctor spoke. "It's impossible, kiddo."
"Well," the Doctor said, elongating the word, "not impossible, but very impractical." There was a thoughtful expression upon his face as he studied the sonic screwdriver before running it over Rose's head, scanning her head.
"I don't understand, and I understand everything," he said dramatically, as he pulled a small tool out of his inside pocket and peered at her through it, closing in on yer eyes and then backing away before poking it into her right ear. It looked to Rose like the tool that the Optician uses when they peer into your eye with a bright light, which would make sense, but he was now studying the tips of her fingers with it. He lowered it and stared at her, his eyes wide with enthusiasm.
"This - this can't happen! You're human."
She fought the urge to smack him.
"It must be... but that's impossible. Maybe something's infecting you? Where would you have picked up something? We've not gone anywhere that's dangerous for humans. Nothing for you get infected with. Maybe there's something pulling your mind into a Chronon shell? Some sort of subatomic connection. Maybe something macro mining your DNA within the interior matrix? Maybe a genetic..."
Finally swatting at him to keep still, she demanded, "What are you going on about?"
He grabbed her hands and held them palms up as he studied them. He gently traced the lines in her hands before moving down her fingers, brushing her fingertips gently with his own. His fingers slowly made their way back to her open palms and he pressed down gently with two fingers, as if to check for a pulse.
"Have you eaten anything different recently? You've really got to think. Is there anything new that might have caused this?"
"Caused what, Doctor?" she asked sharply.
"Anything you might have done? Any sort of alien contact? You always go wandering off when I tell you not to - you always manage to find something dangerous."
She looked at him, offended.
"Or... did you touch something? Something - something different? Something made out of a sort of metal or a biological sampling? Well, that's not a good question really, is it? It's not as if you would know if you had. Otherwise, you probably wouldn't have touched it." He looked at her apologetically. "You wouldn't touch something metal or biological if you didn't know what it was, would you?"
She exhaled slowly at him. "No."
"It's just that these readings are unprecedented, Rose." The Doctor told her. "It's extremely improbable that you could have known what you claim to have felt.
"Are you saying I didn't know? That I somehow... made it up? That I didn't feel what I felt?"
The Doctor and his gadget backed away and Jack raised his arms defensively. "We're not saying that at all, Rosie. It's just very unlikely that you knew telepathically, seeing as how you can't be telepathic."
The Doctor suddenly gasped, and Rose whirled around to see what had caused his shock. He was staring at her in awe, as if she were something precious, something to behold, holy, even. Rose felt like fleeing under his awed scrutiny.
"But she is," the Doctor whispered. "But that's not possible."
Jack whipped his head to look at the Doctor. "What did you say?"
"I'm not telepathic, right?" Rose asked. "I mean... it's probably something that I would know, if I was."
The Doctor continued staring at her in awe. "You are and you aren't."
"I am and I'm not telepathic? Stop talking in riddles and start making some sense, Doctor!"
"I'm trying, I'm trying." He paced back and forth in front of her, frowning as he worked out what he was going to say. "You are human, born human - you shouldn't have any telepathic ability whatsoever. Humans in this time period haven't accessed the other parts of the brain yet, and even after they do, it's rare and have to be trained and built up over long periods of time. Not to mention you would have had to be injected by a genetically engineered bacteria that colonizes the dendrites that produce a very specific neuro-transmitter that allows access to the psychic subconscious of the human brain. Which, you wouldn't have had the time to build it up to the levels you are showing, even if you did manage to access it - no, even then, it just couldn't be possible."
He looked at Rose inquisitively as he gazed down at the sonic readings. "And yet it says here, clear as can be..." He looked back at Rose.
"What?" Rose demanded. "What does it say? Doctor, tell me!"
"You have brain activity where you shouldn't have. Massive amounts of it, in fact, it's lighting up like fireworks on New Year. Human beings don't gain anything remotely similar in the brain, to this until after the 51st century."
Jack nodded, grimacing. "I still remember the day I was injected with the chemical concoction that unlocked that part of the brain. I had a headache for years afterwards."
The Doctor nodded sympathetically. "The 51st century was barbaric in it's early practices of telepathy and psychic training." He looked over the scans one last time before turning his attention back to Rose. "These readings can't be right. From what I can tell, it says that your telepathic levels exceed mine."
The Doctor thumped the sonic screwdriver a few times with his thumb, as if to clear the readings. Obviously unsuccessful, he turned his attention back towards Rose. He stared at her unabashedly, head tilted slightly as if she were a new challenge to figure out - something broken that needed to be fixed, only he hadn't quite figured out how to do so. She half expected him to pull out a magnifying glass and start peering closely at her with it, like a scientist would a mouse in a laboratory. She felt a sudden rush of sympathy for lab rats everywhere.
"Exceed yours?" Jack asked, his mouth dropping open in shock. "I thought the Time Lords were only second to the Oods."
The Doctor looked indignant at being told he was second to any race, but instead of arguing, he only looked at Jack disapprovingly as he muttered to himself, "I'd rather be second to the Ood than a giant head in a jar for a millennium."
Jack frowned. "What was that?"
"Nothing."
Rose looked at the Doctor, and didn't know what to say to the way he was behaving. Even Jack looked thoroughly confused. The Doctor began pacing back and forth once again. "Jackie isn't Jackie - or at least the Jackie that is our Jackie, and Rose has brain activity where she shouldn't have any brain activity at all... I wonder if the two are connected." He looked giddy at the prospect of discovering something new as he stood in front of Rose. "How do you feel?"
Rose literally was speechless. How could he ask her that? How did she feel? After everything she'd gone through the past few days, she honestly didn't know. She shrugged.
"When you realized that it wasn't your mum in there - how did you feel then?" he specified.
Rose thought for a moment and stared at her hands. "I felt sick. Ill - like I was going to be sick and pass out all at the same time. My head hurt and my stomach was in knots."
"And then, you just knew it somehow wasn't her? Did you only seem to recognize that the coffin might be empty or..."
Rose was already shaking her head, no. She tried to explain, "It's sort of like when you see an car accident before it happens, yeah? You can see both cars coming at each other and everything suddenly moves in slow motion. You know they're going to crash, and your body tenses up to prepare itself for the jerk or noise or whatever you think you're going to feel. And then they crash and it's unsurprising because you knew all along that it was going to happen. It was like that. I just looked at the coffin, and it was as if I could see that it wasn't going to be my mother in the end. I tensed up and it's like my body just knew to wait for the answer to show up. That it wasn't my mother in there. And then it did, and I was right."
"It happened like that both times today?" he asked.
Rose nodded. "The last time, yeah. The earlier times today, not so much. When I was near my mum earlier, my stomach would clench and I'd feel nauseated, but that's it. It's when I touched her that the whole sickness became unbearable and it felt like my whole being was revolting against touching her. I didn't know anything specific then, only that I could barely stand to be near her. But in the end, I still needed to touch her and say goodbye - I had to," her voice broke and his dark brown eyes showed such sympathy, but he nodded for her to continue, and so she tried. "I had to force myself to touch her, in the end. And by then, it wasn't so much about saying goodbye, as it was to how quickly I could get away."
The Doctor nodded as he took in all the information; his forehead creasing deeply due to his concentration. Rose wobbled on her feet, feeling both unstable and unbalanced, insecure and nervous, and deeply confused. Jack held her tighter against him and she laid her head against his collarbone, listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart. Jack had always made her feel safe, like that of a big brother. Well, a big brother who flirted religiously. It wasn't often that she sought him out for comfort - the truth of it was that she didn't have feelings for him like that.
There were times in which she'd tried to - it would have been easier at times to reciprocate the feelings he so easily gave off. But her heart continued time and time again to gravitate towards another individual. She sighed. It was fruitless to continue these kinds of thoughts. He would never look at her in that way. And the more she reminded herself of that fact, the closer she got to convincing herself of it. Or so she kept telling herself.
Jack heard her sigh and kissed her gently on the forehead before looking up towards the Doctor. She wondered at those "slightly telepathic" abilities he'd told her about, but a quick glance up didn't give anything away. Or maybe he was very good at hiding them.
"Doc," Jack said, interrupting her train of thought. "Why don't we move this conversation back to the TARDIS."
"What?" the Doctor said, irritated at being interrupted whilst in deep thought. Jack nodded towards Rose and the Doctor followed his gaze. She must have looked dreadful, because the next thing she knew, the Doctor was nodding and leading the way out of the cemetery, his stride purposeful and his head high. As much as Rose wanted to join in on the excitement and happiness that her companion obviously held, she simply felt slow and exhausted, and sick to her stomach - again. At least it wasn't like the agonizing pain she'd felt earlier when the jolt of whatever it was jumped through her... no, it was much more like when she was a kid, and had binged on sugar all day and was crashing at the end of the day.
Jack was being very gentle with her as he held her close, guiding her away from the open grave. She was shuffling her feet, she knew, but it was cold and she felt worn - old even - much older than her actual age.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she realized the importance of what had just happened - the information finally sinking in. Her mother wasn't dead - she hadn't just buried her. She might be alive somewhere, with Mickey. The joy that filled her, consumed her, warmed the ice that had frozen over her heart and for the first time in days she felt free to breathe.
Her heart skipped a beat, the weight which had been growing there lifted; leaving her feeling giddy and excited, very like a child with a new toy. She felt elated at the idea of her mother being alive once again and wanted only to rush to the TARDIS and go and find her, see her mother with her own eyes and physically be able to feel her once again.
But what if they were in trouble? What if she and the Doctor and Jack had figured things out too late? What if she couldn't find them? Would she be burying them again in a few days time? Would she even be able to find them in order to bury them? The joy that ran through her suddenly clenched and faltered, as she let out a low moan, her arm raising to her head, as if to push against the anguished thoughts that filtered through her mind.
Looking back, her eyes blurry and damp, at the casket where she'd just spend hours and hours mourning her loss. Who was in there? If it wasn't her mum, was it still Jackie? A Jackie? It looked like her mum. What if this Jackie was someone lost? Was she all alone? Had she sought her out? Had she needed help?
Rose broke away from Jack, then, stumbling back towards the open grave. They'd walked quite far since she turned around and her heart broke a little more as she saw the amount of distance already between where she now stood and where the woman that could have been her mother lay. It was distressing to see how the physical space between the person you love and yourself grew as you walk away. Watching the distance between your bodies expand until there's nothing left but the sound of your beating heart against the quiet silence of your loved one.
For Rose, it suddenly felt all the more real. It didn't matter that the woman in the coffin wasn't her mother. It could have been. The pain that she felt in her chest and soul and mind was real. Her fear for the truth was real - was her mother really dead? Was she alive? Was she being hurt by someone, right now? Or was this really her - about to be lowered into the ground, alone and completely by herself?
It didn't matter anymore who it was - the body looked like her mother, and the heartbreak that Rose felt for her death was real. And she couldn't simply leave her alone - to be put in the cold, deep ground without being there to witness it, to be close, to offer whatever kind of support and thanks and comfort she could. She owed it to her, even if it was only an imitation of the real thing.
"Rose?" Jack asked in surprise, as she spun away from him. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"I can't just leave her here," she said brokenly, falling to her knees as she tripped over some gravel. Having tumbled towards the ground once more, she leaned over and placed her face in her hands. "This is too much - I can't...I can't..." She sobbed. It really was overwhelming, and she'd gone through so much over the past few days, and today - the worst day of her life - was too much to bear. She felt as if she were on an emotional overload, and could hardly make a coherent thought, much less try and reign in the collision of thoughts and feelings that ran through her head and heart.
The Doctor was beside her now, having run back to her when he heard her anguished cries, and was whispering words of nonsense to her, trying to get her up again, trying to get her to leave - but she couldn't. Leaving would mean that she accepted this, that she believed and hoped that her mother was alive. And she'd been without hope for too long to believe that it was all going to be alright in the end.
"Where's the proof?" she begged, pushing away the hair from her eyes and looking up at him. "How do we know this isn't her? What if this is her - just someone's done something to her? How do we know we'll find the real her - that she's out there, alive?"
The Doctor paused, rocking back on his heels. He looked at her then, thoughtful and concerned, yet deadly serious as he mulled over her questions. His brows furrowed as he reached out to brush the tears from her eyes. His skin was soft as he gently brushed against her with his fingers, and she sighed as a relaxing calm began to spread through her. His mouth opened as if to say something, and he clamped it shut again taking a moment's pause, seemingly to think about the words he wanted to say, how he wanted to say it, and how he could possibly say it in a way that wouldn't give Rose too much hope. She watched the emotions flit across his expression and she tightened her hold on him in response to his trepidation, knowing that he needed some sort of sign from her to give him the confidence to say what needed to be said, even if it would hurt her to hear the words in the end.
He looked at her very seriously, his eyes shining with emotion as he lowered his head so that he could meet her directly in the eye. "Rose, oh Rose. My beautiful Rose. You've been such a trooper. You're tired and you're in pain and I wish for all the universe that I could take that hurt from you. And I know it's a lot to take in, especially after today - but Rose, you've got to believe me. I would never hurt you like this."
"He's right, kiddo," Jack interrupted, crouching down beside the two of them, "this isn't your mum, which means she's out there and we've got to find her."
"And Mickey," Rose interjected, weeping.
"And Rickey the Idiot," the Doctor said with a smile. Rose felt heartsick.
"C'mon, that's a girl," Jack said, helping the Doctor lift Rose up of the ground. Aware that she was probably covered in mud, she cringed for a moment before grabbing hold of the Doctor and Jack's outstretched hands. She was unsteady on her feet as she stood, and then the world somewhat shifted, turning a bit grey, and she felt a wave of dizziness come over her, pulling her back down to the earth. She would have hit the ground hard, had it not been for the Doctor grabbing hold of her around the waist quickly. It felt as if she'd just spent the last ten minutes whirling around in circles, only to stop suddenly and have the world continue to rush around her as she tried to hold on for dear life.
Then have everything rush at her all of a sudden - the momentum of everything finally crashing around her, forcing her to catch up emotionally, was just enormous in it's complexity. She managed to keep her eyes open, forcing them to stay that way, even if she was finding the world all too blurry for her liking.
Something caught her attention - a man dressed in black stood just at the corner of her eye. He wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, but there was something about him that caught her attention and made her look twice.
"Who's that?" she asked, pointing over her shoulder, her head spinning as she worked to focus on the individual. "Doctor - who's that man over there?"
The Doctor turned in the direction she was pointing, and looked for a long moment before turning back to Rose in confusion.
"I don't see anyone - there's no one there." His eyes held questions.
Rose's forehead wrinkled and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I could've sworn I just saw someone standing there, starin' right at us."
"It was probably just someone walking by," Jack said reassuringly. "Could've been anyone, really."
Rose nodded, although she couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right. "There was a man there, Doctor, I know it."
There was something about the way he had been standing - something about the way he was staring right at her. As if he could see into her soul and was pushing in some sort of darkness into her. She shivered.
"How do you want to get back to the TARDIS, Doc?" Jack asked, setting his hands on his hips as he studied the empty parking lot they now stood in front of.
The Doctor sighed as he looked around the now empty cemetery before gently stepping back from Rose. "Wait, just a minute, let me get..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "Jack - let me see your wrist for a moment."
"Sorry, Doc - it's broken," Jack said, apologetically. "Has been for ages."
"It is a bit rusted," the Doctor frowned in concentration as he pushed his screwdriver into Jack's Vortex Manipulator, "well...a bit more than a bit. Looks to be quite ancient, actually."
Jack's expression darkened as he pulled his arm out of the Doctor's grasp. Rose's heart went out in sympathy for him as she watched a myriad of pain and emotion flit across his face. Jack, who was always so jovial and flirty - so heroic and captivating, was suddenly withdrawn and distant; cold even. Rose saw that the Doctor had also noticed the change in Jack's presence, as he gave Jack a considering glance before narrowing his eyes in concern and curiosity. "How long did you say it's been for you since we saw you last, Jack?"
Jack's eyes darkened all the more as he finally sighed and raised his own face to the Doctor challengingly. "I didn't."
"Jack," the Doctor started, taking a step towards him. "What happened to your vortex manipulator? That one," he said, pointing to Jack's wrist, "shows wear and tear much older than you could possibly be. Where did you pick it up?"
"Don't," Jack stopped him, putting up a hand. "I really don't want to talk about it."
The Doctor nodded slowly, his eyes alert and sharply focused on Jack's, but he turned his attention back to the vortex manipulator, which was now shooting small sparks, causing Jack to jump.
"We can discuss it later," the Doctor offered gently, not looking back at Jack as he concentrated on the vortex manipulator.
Jack looked down towards his feet for a long moment before nodding once. Rose wasn't sure how the Doctor knew that he had nodded, but the Doctor had nodded back to himself in confirmation to Jack's slightly forced agreement. Rose wondered for a moment if they were speaking telepathically, but then shook her head. The Doctor had to touch someone in order for his telepathic link to work. At least, that's what he had lead her to believe when he'd told her about his link with Reinette back on the Madame de Pompedour ship. Her curiosity piqued, but not enough to tear her attention away from seeking out the person causing the nagging feeling in her gut. Something wasn't right and she needed to understand what was causing her concern.
Turning his attention back to Rose, he looked towards the direction she was focused on. She was pretty sure that that someone was there, even if currently unseen. It made her feel unsettled and she didn't like it. Jack put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a small squeeze. She turned her head in his direction and was touched by the concern spread over his face.
"Got it!" the Doctor smirked. "All fixed."
Jack's concern melted away as a grin made it's way across his face. Turning back to the Doctor, he practically bounced on his heels in jubilation. "You got it to work, Doc? Really? I've been working on that for ages! That's amazing! Brilliant!"
"I am clever, me," the Doctor said as he raised an eyebrow and grinned back at Jack.
"So you've told us," Jack answered dryly, pushing buttons and testing out all of the now working features..
"I'm not letting you keep it." The Doctor told him as tucked away the screwdriver into the inside of his coat pocket.
"I figured as much," Jack replied softly, staring longingly at his wrist strap, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly. The Doctor stared long and hard at him for a moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but before he could work up what he was going to say, Rose grabbed hold of him and turned him in the direction she was still staring at.
The air was shimmering in the spot she pointed out, like ripples in a pond, and she watched, fascinated and somewhat scared of what it might be.
"Doctor, there is someone there," she whispered to him. "There was a man - I saw him looking at us."
The Doctor peered at the tree and then turned back to her, shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry, Rose, but I don't see anyone there." He closed his eyes for a long moment, concentrating, before opening them again. "I don't even sense another presence here other than us. Look around - we're the only ones left."
Rose glanced around and found that what he said was true - the cemetery was completely empty. But something was nagging at her, something deep and guttural and real. Something that made her heart pound and her hands clammy, and she just knew, without a doubt, that they were still being watched by someone. Her eyes scanned the empty cemetery, desperate to put a person to the presence she was feeling, but the Doctor was right. There was no one in visible sight. And yet, the skin on her arms and on the back of her neck prickled, as goosebumps covered her skin. She held the feeling that they were being watched and she fought the urge to turn in circles, searching out every shadow and corner until she found the person she was sure was looking back.
But there was no one to be seen. Desperately, she turned towards Jack. "Did you see him?"
He shook his head. "Sorry, no. When I turned to where you and the Doc were pointing, there was no one there."
"Rose, I think maybe we should get going," the Doctor said, reaching out for her hand. She avoided him, taking a step backwards.
"Please believe me - I'm not making it up," she pleaded. "There is someone watching us - I can tell. I feel it. I saw a shimmer."
The Doctor looked at her in concern. "Rose, I think it's been a really long day..."
Her eyes narrowed at him and she crossed her arms across her chest. "Don't do that."
"Don't do what?" he looked baffled.
"Don't be condescending. Not to me." She was furious. "Not today."
"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to be." He still looked more concerned than apologetic, as far as she could tell.
"I need you to believe me."
He took a step towards her. "I always believe you, Rose," he said softly.
His expression was open and earnest, almost like that of childlike innocence. She gazed deeply into his eyes, searching for the truth behind his words. She didn't have to search long - he was telling the truth. Of course he was. She was simply overtired and emotionally spent, and at the end of a very long day, she was finding challenges where none were meant to be found. So what if there had been a man standing there looking in their direction. She honestly had no idea why she was letting it bother her so much. Apparently, she was more tired than she thought, because she now needed to add paranoia to her mix of emotional problems. Even though she couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling of someone watching her, she realized it didn't matter. What did matter was the fact that they were standing in the rain, and it was cold, and they needed to get to the TARDIS so they could go and see Mickey, and maybe find a clue to the whereabouts of her Mum and her best friend.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, Jack," she said, glancing at each one as she said their name. "You're right - there's no one there." Rose put a hand to her head - the pounding had started again. "I still have this nagging feeling in my gut that something's wrong, you know, that someone's watching us, but it really doesn't matter and now I'm just tired and cold and I really just want to go."
Jack gave her a half-grin and grasped tightly onto her arm as well as the Doctor's arm. "Give me just a tic, and we'll be there before you can say, Raxacoricofallapatorius."
The Doctor grinned as he grabbed onto Jack and slung an arm around Rose's shoulders, gripping her tightly. "Hold on," he said and pushed down on Jack's Vortex Manipulator.
The world spun and plummeted, and it was as if time had both sped up and slowed down in a single instance. Rose's feet left the ground, and yet, she hadn't moved and still felt hard Earth under her the entire time they'd spun. She heard a voice in her head telling her to go ahead and look, to admire, to gain. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to see and didn't have a clue what she was supposed to gain, but she opened her eyes, desperate to admire what she was being led to see. Her eyes opened and what she saw in a single moment was both incredible and horrifying. It was like biting into an apple from the Tree of Knowledge, and learning the truths of the world in one single bite.
She could see time - for a single moment. All of space and all of time in one single flying moment. It rushed towards her, in her, through her, and was fast enough that she couldn't even gasp or draw in a single breath, quicker than blinking, and yet at the same time, it was as if time itself had stopped - elongated somehow - and although she could still tell how quickly time was moving, in her mind it was as if years, centuries even, had lasted, and then it was gone. Before she knew it, they had arrived and she had been released. The Doctor and Jack were both moving forward, moving away from her, and she could only stand there as the world and the universe and all of time and space rushed back out of her.
Her hands flew to her face, covering her eyes, trying to block out what she could see, and sliding down to cover her mouth. She fell to her knees with a low moan, scraping her knees on the pavement. Tears poured out of her eyes - she was finding it impossible to blink - her eyes were frozen in a wide fear, and she trembled with the understood amazement and horror of what she'd witnessed. "I can't close my eyes. I can't close my eyes." Her mouth was moving - she felt it against her fingertips - she was speaking, but heard nothing.
"Rose, what's wrong?" The Doctor had moved to her side and was pulling her upwards. The movement was too quick and before she knew it, she was down again. Still reeling as if moving, she rocked with a terrible case of vertigo.
"My eyes," she whispered as she reached up to touch them. "I can't stop seeing."
"What? What did you see?" The Doctor was yelling - she could tell. He was so close, she could feel his hot breath against her face. She could see him - his face was rough with desperate concern, but she didn't understand why he was yelling. "Rose - tell me. What did you see?"
The roar in her ears was deafening, and yet, she could hear perfectly well. "Wh...Why are you screaming?" she choked out at the Doctor, as tears continued to pour from her eyes.
His voice lowered then, and he gripped her shoulders roughly. "Talk to me. Tell me what you saw? You had your eyes open? You looked while we moved?"
She nodded as she trembled in his arms. "I didn't mean to - I didn't know I wasn't supposed to. I just needed to see - something was telling me to look."
Nausea hit her suddenly, and she hunched forward, feeling violently ill. The bad feeling that had haunted her in the cemetery now hit her ten-fold. It pierced into her, like the blade of a knife, deep in her gut, and throbbed, burning. It was as if fury itself had made it's way into her and erupted in waves against her, into her, and she was helpless to fight it.
"It's back," she cried, holding her abdomen, forced to bend from the agony in her gut. "We're being watched."
The Doctor leaped up away from Rose, and began running around the exterior of the TARDIS, searching for the someone that was hurting her.
"Whose there?" he called out. "Make yourself present."
The wind blew against the trees, making them rock and shiver, but no one came forward.
Jack now knelt beside her, pulling her hair from her eyes as she was sick on the cool pavement. Her skin was hot and she felt clammy as he pulled her against him. He held her reassuringly, as he looked up at the Doctor.
"Do you think she saw the Vortex?" he asked.
The Doctor frowned. "It's not possible. Humans don't have the ability to see it. The optic nerves don't travel fast enough for the brain to compute what their vision witnesses."
"Like humans don't have telepathic ability?" Jack said as he tightened his hold on her, trying to cease her tremors.
Rose screamed as another wave of pain and nausea hit her. Her mind was still a mass of whirling confusion - she'd seen too much and she couldn't stop the images that now haunted her.
The Doctor groaned and pulled his glasses out of his pocket. "I don't know what's happening, but I'm going to find out! Get her inside the TARDIS - quick. Her heart rate is speeding up and she's going to go into cardiac arrest if we don't calm her down."
The world moved as Jack picked her up off of the ground and into her arms. She reached out desperately to try and hold on to something, as she knew she was going to fall and she heard Jack's gentle admonishing, "Take it easy, I've got you. Be still or I'm gonna drop you."
Rose pulled her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. Hurt and confused and sick - she didn't know what was happening, but she knew she was scared. She heard the Doctor unlock the TARDIS and felt Jack turn to slide in the door.
As she turned in his arms, she saw the same figure in black, standing in broad daylight not ten feet away from her, grinning. Her mouth dropped open as she stared in disbelief. Pounding Jack on the shoulders, she screeched, "He's there - he's standing right there."
"Wha?" Jack said, his voice halting as Rose's elbow came in contact with his voice box.
"Who are you?" Rose screamed. "What do you want?"
"It won't be long, now." She heard in her mind, rather than in her ears. The man - the same man that she'd seen at the funeral - his lips didn't move. His grin turned downwards as he turned and disappeared.
"NO!" she cried. "Come back! What won't be long now?"
The Doctor grabbed her out of Jack's arms and yanked her towards him.
"He was right there, Doctor! Did you see him?" Rose felt herself growing hysterical. "He spoke to me, b...but his lips didn't m...move."
The Doctor looked at Jack. "Did you see who it was?" he asked sharply.
Jack shook his head quickly. "I looked when she started screaming, but I didn't see anything."
Rose sobbed. "He's d...doing something to me, I can f...feel it." Her teeth were chatting now, and she was freezing. Her lips were burning now, as well as her chest. She felt beyond terrified.
"I'm going to figure this out," the Doctor tried to tell her, but she was too far past caring.
"W...Why didn't his lips move, D...Doctor?" she asked helplessly. "What does h...he want with m...me?"
Everything started to turn grey and she felt her face go slack as she lost a bit more control over her limbs. Her eyes begun to roll and she was having difficulty staying conscious.
The Doctor turned to Jack and roughly gave orders. "Go into the TARDIS and get me that black kit next to my tool bag."
"The First Aid bag?" Jack questioned quickly.
"It's in the First Aid bag. It's the little black kit inside."
"You want to d...drug me?" Rose asked, slurring.
The Doctor held her. "You've got to calm down - your heart rate is racing and I've got to slow it down. The best way to do that is to put you into an induced sleep. Your body will do all of the work."
"I d...don't want to be knocked out!" Rose yelled, trying to tear herself away from him. "No! I'm c...calm! I'm calm!"
Her head was pounding - it was like someone was hitting her over and over again with a pile of bricks. She wanted to lay on the ground and close her eyes - make herself completely still in order to stop the world from going in circles. But she couldn't - she had to stay awake - had to find out where her Mum and Mickey were - had to save them - had to...
"I'm sorry, Rose," she heard Jack say as he moved towards her, his arm outstretched with the syringe.
"Why are you d...doing this? No - I said n...no! I don't w...want this," she yelled, irate and upset, willing her hands to push against him, push herself away. Willing herself to focus on him. But to her horror, her arms refused to cooperate, and for one long moment all she could do was stare daftly at them, feeling confused and hurt and angry, before the world tilted before her and a fog clouded her vision.
"How c...could you?" she slurred as her knees gave way and she started the slow plummet towards the earth.
"I didn't do anything, Rose!" she heard Jack say. "Doctor - I didn't inject her yet!"
"Grab her, quick!" she heard the Doctor yell.
"She's having some sort of...seizure," Jack said worriedly. "What's causing it?"
"I don't know," the Doctor responded, his voice thin and on edge, "but hold her arms down so she doesn't hurt herself further."
Rose felt cold hands grasp her neck - the Doctor was holding her head carefully in his lap, as she felt Jack clamp down on her wrists, keeping them still.
Rose forced herself to open her eyes and look at the Doctor. He was panting slightly and was looking down at her with a fear that she rarely saw, if ever.
"Doctor," she rasped.
"Don't try to talk just now," he told her. "Wait it out - it won't be much longer."
"Please..."
He looked as if he wanted to tear his hair out. "I know - I'm sorry."
"Help me," she whispered.
"I will, Rose. I promise."
"We both will," Jack said, his voice full of compassion and meaning.
There was a burning now, in her mind as well as her chest, and it raged against her, burning her, hurting her. It was ongoing and excruciating, and she couldn't focus, couldn't stay, couldn't...
"Please, make it stop!" she gasped, before everything turned black and was finally silent and still.
…