In an insane flash, his senses are flooded. A tornado of memory and emotion fiercely surge around him, converging into white noise and crackling with lightning. He sees everything and understands nothing. She's furiously thrusting years of memories at him in a desperate effort to get him to understand, and he vaguely wonders where Rose has learned to telepathically project like this.
Ah. Likely not Rose, he corrects himself. That must be why.
"Stop." he thinks to her, and the tempest instantly quiets. What's left is a more familiar sensation: the presence of two minds. Two tangible sets of thoughts and worries and whispers shift and shiver with light and energy. Just two, in fact, which immediately eliminates any sort of compression field or body snatch.
He senses no deception. Nothing to indicate that the woman he holds between his hands is not who she claims she is. But he is still on the surface. If she's a clone or brainwashed shape shifter of some sort, there will be an origin memory hidden somewhere. Probably buried deeply.
"I need to look deeper," he thinks.
"I know. Go on."
Taking a breath, he presses in. She yields to him, willing and unafraid.
He hunts. Ignoring the content of what he treads through, he looks for barriers. He looks for doors. He scavenges for anything that would point to a concealed truth. He digs deep into recessed memory, into places she probably can't call on consciously with much ease. He is fast and ruthless. It's so tight squeezing into these passages that he hears her gasp and then feels the twinge of pain cascading through her. He's hurting her.
Her quiet willingness to bear the pain begins to cut through his denial. He continues to look, but the search becomes rote as his doubt sparks. His edges tingle with the foreboding realization that she could be telling the truth.
His pace has slowed to a half-hearted crawl when he stumbles upon a cleverly concealed door. On his recognition of it, she internally recoils and his vindication swells as she begs him not to go in. She attempts to block it with mental barriers that he easily passes through. Satisfied he's found what he's looking for, he bursts through the door triumphantly and prepares himself to feast on the knowledge of her true identity.
The room is dark. Very dark. Sight lost, mostly there is only dizzy sensation. Squinting through the darkness he barely makes out the flashing of skin. There's a feral moan from below him. Male, and very much not his. Suddenly, there are fingers clawing at hips, hair is tossed, and torsos are grinding out an ancient rhythm. His olefactory awareness kicks in. It smells of Rose and sweat and heat and sex and ohdeargod he should not be here.
Backing out quickly, he slams the door with such force that it shakes the whole corridor.
"What was...Why did...What were you thinking hiding that?" he stammers wildly.
He feels her thoughts thrum with amusement, embarrassment, and gentle concern.
"Was it really something you wanted to see?" she counters.
"What? I.. No! Well.. Not with... Not as such. No."
He feels her suppress a giggle. And another. Eventually she can't hold it in, and it cascades into a full blown laugh. For the first time in his life, he not only witnesses, but is a part of her laugh. The energy of her happiness, of her utter joy, bursts forth like the summer sun coming out from behind a cloud. It throbs through him and he basks in it. It's a deluge he isn't prepared for, and he risks probing the joy's center. His hearts nearly stop as he realizes what he's found there.
Love. Rose's love for him. It's identity is unmistakable, swirling brightly with the same color as her aura. He's sampled it once before when he took the Vortex from her, but if anything it's become brighter, more vivid.
"Rose." he names her solemnly, finally free of doubt.
She oozes tangible relief at his admission. But still, she senses his continued reticence. He has questions.
"Doctor. Will you let me guide you for a little while?" she asks gently, extending the mental equivalent of her hand. He hesitates for a moment and then takes it. Control is relinquished and he is plunged into the fog of Rose's memory…
Rose woke in her hammock and stretched, foggy with sleep, the soft scent of ocean sunrise wafting over her. As she patted down her wild bedhead, her fingers grazed the flower still tucked behind her left ear. Pulling it out, she looked at it. Now wilted, the edges were curling. She held it to her nose. Still deliciously fragrant.
She had danced with the Doctor last night. The look she had seen in his eyes, the tremble she had heard in his voice... It left her feeling confused, but excited. A new door had been opened between them. In their exchange she had glimpsed a future she hadn't dared to hope for.
Sorting herself out, she sprang from her room to the hut's common area. The Doctor was there, sitting
atop a picnic table in the center of the room, reading something and simultaneously gobbling greedily on fruit and licking his fingers noisily.
"Rose!" he smiled. "Thought you might never wake up! Overindulge a bit last night, eh? Come have some of this food; it's delicious, delectable, and all sorts of other good d-words. Why didn't anyone tell me that Saiphan food was so brilliant?"
Beaming, she seated herself across from the Doctor and grabbed a slice of watermelon. "You forget, I pretty much introduced you to Saiphan food last night."
"Did you? And when was that?"
She shot him a confused look. "Y'know. Last night? Pu-pu platter and all?"
"No pupus for me, unfortunately. I was out getting that part for the TARDIS." Finally looking up from his book, he glanced at her curiously.
"How many daiquiris did you have last night, anyway?" His eyes swept over her, focusing like heat-seeking missles on her flower. "And what's that behind your ear?" He snatched at the flower tucked there and scowled at it. "It's gone all brown and mushy. Get rid of it."
Rose sat stunned as he tossed the flower over his back into the trash. Numbly, she watched him celebrate his 'two points scored', pumping his fist in the air, then as he settled back down to his book like nothing had happened.
So. That's how he was going to play it then. Complete denial.
She couldn't say she was surprised. It certainly wasn't the first time he ignored an awkward situation. They never talked about what happened on New Earth, after all. And the hasty retreat he had beaten last night now made it clear he regretted things getting so... intimate. But she never thought he could be quite this brash about it.
Rose felt her heart sink. Stiffening upright, she blurted out "I'll meet you back at the TARDIS in a bit, yeah?"
"Sure, take your time," waved the Doctor, not bothering to look up from his book, as Rose hurried out of the hut.
Her chest panging painfully, she retreated to the beach. Walking along the sandy shores, she took in the scene of the previous evening's events. Not even ashes from the bonfire remained: the tide had done its work during the night and washed away all of the remnants of the party.
As she strolled along the tree line, she cursed herself for so stupidly getting her hopes up. No matter what happened, she pledged, she couldn't do that anymore. The Doctor was never going to give her that kind of love, that kind of life. She thought she had embraced that as fact. Still, every time he hinted at a chance, she leapt for it. Was she lying to herself?
She regularly told her herself not to pin human expectations on someone so...not human. But, she was never the one initiating their brief crosses into ambiguous territory. Her devotion and loyalty were absolute, but it was always the Doctor that upped the ante.
Suddenly, Rose noticed something lying in the sand up ahead. Altering her course slightly, she started towards it, disbelieving the conclusion her eyes were drawing as she got closer and closer.
Arriving at the scene and looking down, there was no mistaking it. It was the Doctor's suit coat and shoes, plain as day. Thinking back, she was 100 certain he was wearing them at breakfast. She looked around hurriedly to see if somehow he had beaten her out to the beach, which seemed unlikely as she'd practically sprinted here. No sign of him anywhere. She picked up his Converse and squeezed them in her hands.
Her mind was overwhelmed with questions and possibilities. And in that moment, she decided to not let go of hope.
Rose's hand ran through her chestnut hair as she took in the little green men. She knew they were called the Clurichaun, but it was hard for her to think of them as anything but classic leprechauns. Small, simply clothed, and green, even the women had thick pointy beards.
She and Mickey had tracked their crashing ship into the English Channel, saved them from drowning, and established a friendly relationship. Unable to recover the craft, Torchwood had put out a signal to help them hitch a ride with a passing ship to a worthier spaceport.
While being housed at Torchwood One, the Clurichaun had broken no stereotypes with their behavior. They had friendly dispositions, but they also partied and caroused, danced noisy jigs, and drank far too much. Probably the reason their ship went down in the first place, Rose joked with Mickey.
Rose arrived in their temporary living quarters to tell them that a signal had been picked up, and their rescuers would be here in two days. The Clurichaun cheered, waving their small arms in the air, and broke out into a party even rowdier than the first.
As Rose started to leave, the one called Iobath stepped forward. "Rose Tyler. For your aid and assistance, we are prepared to grant one wish," he announced in a grand voice, octaves about a human female's.
Rose was startled, and the Doctor, peering through her eyes at this memory, felt it. "A wish?" she repeated, surprised, "What sort of wish?"
"That is for you to decide, Rose Tyler. Many wish for riches, some for immortality. Some want beauty, and a few desire love." Iobath stepped closer to her and his eyes took a serious cast for the first time since they met.
"And since I suspect that Rose Tyler has no need for any of those things, that she might instead consider the offer of a journey."
Rose smiled sweetly. This wasn't the first offer she'd gotten from an alien species. "I'm honored, Iobath, but I can't come with you. I'm needed here."
Chattering laughter erupted amongst the leprechauns behind Iobath, and Rose instantly wondered if she had offended them.
"Not with us," chortled Iobath, "You would starve on a diet of rainbows and whiskey. I mean the land of your origin. Even now, we can feel its pull on you."
The other Torchwood personnel in the room exchanged meaningful glances, but Rose was oblivious, stunned into a frozen silence.
"Consider our offer," said Iobath nodding solemnly.
There was only a brief beat before the party began anew.
"You're thinking about doing it, aren't you?" Mickey said bluntly.
"Yeah, I am."
"Rose. You need to be sure about this," Mickey said. "The Clurichauns can only send you across once. To one point in time and space. You've only got one shot. If I were you, I'd go back to London."
"Who knows how long it would be, Mick. Or how I would find him and contact him once he arrived. What if he avoids my time altogether now? No, this is my chance."
"But what's your contingency? At least in London, we could work you up some false Torchwood credentials. Get you into a position to be able to monitor for his return."
Rose shuddered. "There's no way I'm working for that Torchwood. And you know it."
"But Rose, you're not even sure that it's the right him!"
She shrugged. "Guess that's a risk I'm going to have to take. 'Sides, someone once told me Saipha's not a bad place to be stranded if it all goes wrong."
"If you're wrong, you could create a huge paradox."
"I won't. I have a plan."
Mickey's face radiated skeptical concern. Rose was filled with a surge of tenderness towards him; this friend who had been through so much with her. For her.
"Mickey, you've helped me get back to him before, under much worse circumstances. Please. You know if there's a chance to get back to him, I've got to try."
Mickey folded his arms and considered for a moment. Breathing out, he chuckled and shook his head. "I guess I should have expected this. You really love him, don't you? Though I'll never know what you see in the skinny bastard."
Rose flung her arms around Mickey. "I knew you'd understand."
Pausing for a beat, Mickey issued a gruff smile. "Your mother is going to lose it."
"Remember what we suspect about the web of time," reviewed Pete one final time. "It's not the motivations that matter, but the actions. What happens matters. Not the why."
Rose reflected on this, thinking back to the day where Pete in her world died, sacrificing himself to restore the world to normalcy. "I'll remember," she said nodding. "Thank you, Pete." There was an awkward pause between them before he initiated a hug. "Take care of her," Rose whispered, and felt his assenting nod.
Mickey was next in line, looking stoic. "I'm not saying goodbye Rose. We keep saying our final goodbyes, and we keep seeing each other again. Just...good luck, okay?"
"I'd say you too, but I know you won't need luck," teased Rose, hugging him tightly.
She now faced her mother. She felt her eyes begin to well.
"You're completely sure about this, sweetheart?" Jackie said, her eyes filling with tears that mirrored Rose's.
Rose put her hands on her mother's shoulders. "If you lost Dad again, what would you do to get back to him?"
Jackie and Pete exchanged a look. "I'd do anything," said Jackie, her tone much softer than usual.
"I love you, mum."
"Love you too, darling. Tell the Doctor that if he doesn't take care of you, I'll crawl my way across the void and kill him myself."
Nodding, her goodbyes were complete. She turned to Iobath and together they walked back towards the Clurichaun who had joined hands in a suddenly-somber circle.
Taking her place in the center, Rose leaned down to Iobath. "I'm ready," she announced. Iobath nodded in response, and at the nod of his head, all of the Clurichaun closed their eyes.
A deep hum filled the room. Its resonance grew in volume and thundered through her chest, threatening to split her head open. With one hand, she clutched the TARDIS key around her neck, and poured all of her energy into hope.
Before she could draw another shaky breath, she was pushed off balance by a foamy wave of warm water cresting over her feet. Her trainers sank into the undertow as the wave pulled back. Releasing the TARDIS key, she looked around and saw a young man some distance down the beach. She chased him, flagging him down. Nearing, she breathlessly asked him, "Where am I?"
"You are on Kahala Beach," he answered, in perfect English.
"Which planet?" she insisted.
"Why, Saipha, of course. Are you quite well, miss?"
Carried away with her excitement, she swept him into a hug. "I," she replied, "am fantastic! Completely fantastic!" He dawdled off, unsure how to react to the crazy lady on the beach.
Staring out into the surf for a few more moments, she reached to her belt and plucked off the translation device she'd been using the last three years. Winding up her arm, she threw it into the sea.
As the images slow to a dreamy trickle, the Doctor releases Rose from his hold. When she opens her eyes, he is smiling down at her, so broadly and proudly that his chest might burst.
"Rose Tyler," he says, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Hello," she says with a big grin, wagging her fingers lightly, and before she has a chance to say anything else, he's picked her up and is swinging her around him. Her entire body laughs with joy.
"Count on you to achieve the impossible," he says as they settle into a tight embrace.
"Never say never ever," she replies.
"No. Never again."
"You're pleased to see me then?"
"Pleased?" she feels the Doctor's breath on her cheek in a silent chuckle. "Pleased? I was pleased when I successfully tied my shoes this morning. I'm pleased when I manage to not burn my toast. I'm pleased my coat has edible fibers in it to eat in a pinch. But 'pleased' doesn't cut it as a word here, Rose."
He draws back, and his eyes are fierce and dark. "I haven't been this glad of anything in centuries."
She leans in, to touch his forehead with hers. There is electricity between them. Tension. She is giddy with it, but she knows that she can't give into it just yet.
"So... you want to get out of here?" he asks hopefully.
She separates herself and steps backwards out of his embrace, and he immediately checks himself. Her face looks troubled. Was he too intense? Too soon? Has she been offended by his initial lack of faith? Oh, he'll easily make up for that, given time. Please, let there be time...
"We can't leave, Doctor. Not yet, at least. I'm happy to see you, don't get me wrong. But our...reunion...has created a bit of a situation."
"Are you okay? Tired? Sick? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"I'm fine. But, I am a bit worried for my counterpart."
Her counterpart? His mind races to process what she was saying. Oh God, her counterpart. Rose from the past. Still here. Having never met the future Doctor, she would never suspect anything about a future him visiting this place. She would never come back here, and they would never be reunited.
"Paradox," he blurts out. And just as he does, he can feel it start to tingle his time sense. Jiminy Cricket, it's a big one.
"Yeah. Sorry about that," said Rose sheepishly. "Good news, though. I've got a plan."