The One Adventure I'll Never Have
part iii
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"I spent Christmas day right over there, the Powell Estate. With this... family. My friend, she had this family. Well, they were m... Still. Gone now."
"I just thought... 'cos I'd changed..."
"Yeah, I thought 'cos you'd changed... you might not want me anymore."
.
This time, I'm prepared for it.
I'm not stupid, hardly, but even a Time Lord cannot perfectly pinpoint these sporadic timey-wimey shifts between parallel universes. Except on Christmas Day. If there were ever a day for the universe to kick me across the lines between parallel universes, it would be on Christmas. It isn't like I've already got a knot in the pit of my stomach thinking about that one Christmas: silly paper hats, laughing over a table of food, Rose's hand gliding across mine under the protection of the table.
Oh, wait. Brilliant.
It wasn't snowing in my universe, but it is in hers. Fat flakes dribble through the skies, perching on my hair as though it's a homing beacon. I've been dropped unceremonically onto a bench across from a line of little shops - filled with tempting sweets. Though the people meandering through the quiet street don't appear to find anything odd about my sudden appearance, I feel like a flashing neon sign. Newcomer! Universe-jumping alien!
A couple passes in front of me, the chap giving me a curt nod as he wraps an arm about his blonde-haired companion. She snuggles into his side, brown eyes peeping curiously at me from the safety of his embrace. She offers up a little smile, a silent Christmas greeting, but I'm too busy tracing her hair and reassuring my hearts that it isn't the right texture to be Rose's. They're busy galloping about in my chest like idiots, begging me to reach out for the woman so alike Rose.
Quit mucking around, I tell myself. It isn't her.
Too late, I quirk my lips up. She's already got her eyebrows pulled together in suspicion. Ducking my head and scratching my neck, I wait for them to amble away.
With the couple gone, I'm alone on the street. The quiet, slumbering street.
It doesn't feel right.
Of course it doesn't, I realize a moment later, smacking my forehead. In this universe, there haven't been alien life-forms looming overhead the past few years. Christmas is still just a holiday here, not a reminder to lock all the doors and windows and hope that you're not going to be disintegrated.
Peaceful. For once.
I glance down the street, tracing the blurred edge of the couple as they head off to spend their evening together. The wind kicks up, sending the girl's blonde hair flying. Suddenly, there's a lump in my throat.
"Well, this has been brilliant, but I have planets to see, the TARDIS to tend to-"
"Won't you stay? Just for a little bit?" From the porch, Rose looks up at him with round, brown eyes, eyelashes fluttering. A tiny snowflake falls onto her lower lip, remains suspended there, and he finds himself staring at the way it teeters on the edge of her pink mouth.
Without thinking - too much at least; can't help a brilliant mind - he reaches out with his hand, thumb skimming over her lip.
"Snowflake," he says softly when Rose sucks in a breath.
"Thanks."
Rose doesn't talk after that. Her expression is caught somewhere between hesitant hope and disappointment, as though she's waiting for him to walk away, back to his exciting life that won't wither away on him.
"Yeah, I think I will stay," he says, hand skimming over Rose's cheek and down her blonde hair.
Then they're grinning at each other like children, the irreplacable joy he's only ever able to find with her. The smile on her face dims only slightly when he reaches for her hand, tangling their fingers together, but it's a good change. She looks softer now, eyes shaded with shyness as our thumbs dance together.
"Come inside, yeah?" Rose tugs gently on his hand, still apparently surprised that he chose to stay.
"Lead the way, madam," he says, bending at the waist in an awkward bow.
Her laughter rings out across the porch, shades in the dimples that emerge on her rosy cheeks.
I still haven't turned my head, though my vision has blurred. Blinking, I watch the woman peek around at me one last time, looking even warier than before. I lean forward, preparing to stand and walk away before I'm saddled with assault or some ridiculous verdict; then, as my bum lifts off the bench, I realize why cold panic has been growing in my gut: She can see me. No one is supposed to be able to see me.
"Alright, what did you do now?" I croak, tilting my head back and staring up at the sky.
Stars twinkle at me but offer no reply. If I'm visible here then a ship somewhere out there ought to sense my voice. Knowing my luck, a stray Dalek ship would pick up the transmissions and hurry down to "exterminate" me.
Then, one star twinkles brighter than the rest, trailing across the sky. A smile breaks across my face and I wake. It's an Isolus pod, not big enough to contain me - I'd crush their petal-like bodies, unfortunately - but wonderous to behold.
"Well, aren't you beautiful," I breathe, waving once more as the Isolus pod winks once, twice, then disappears through a tiny Rift into their own universe.
I'm left alone again, shivering in my thin coat.
"You can take me away now," I beseech the Universe one more time. "You don't understand. I can't -" my voice cuts off with a quiet little sound. The Universe remains stubbornly silent but the snow lightens, offering a brief respite. Officially out of options, I head across the street toward the row of little shops. The last time I'd seen Rose was in the wreckage of Canary Wharf, back at the beginning of fall. Her familiar features are starting to slip from my mind, though I try to keep them put.
"C'mon then." They're moving inside, the door closed with a quick push of his trainer. The stairs groan under their weight and they don't talk about the fact that their hands are still joined lightly, tantalizingly. When they reach Rose's room, their shoes are discarded against the wall, his trainer brushing her grey boot.
On the bed, they sit across from each other, legs crossed, knees brushing.
"Glad you're feeling better," Rose says at last, eyes bouncing around the room, landing on anything but the Doctor. She eyes a bulletin board with pictures from when she was a kid fondly, wondering why it's still gathering dust by the closet.
Chuckling, he rasps, "Yeah, well, regeneration process is a bit of a doozy."
Rose's face darkens with guilt. "I'm sorry. It's my fault that you had to-"
"Shh. Sh, sh." Rose opens her mouth to try and speak again, but his thumb pressed against her mouth cuts off that plan of action. "The only thing you're at fault for is coming back to save me in the first place. The heart of the TARDIS could've killed you, Rose."
"Yeah, well," she mumbles, blushing now, "I couldn't just let you die, now could I?"
Finally, Rose looks up, meeting his steady gaze. He's smiling affectionately at her, his head tilted just to the right and brown hair flopping in all directions. He really is gorgeous, Rose finds herself thinking, drawing in a small breath as she raises her hand up.
Just as I'm passing the last of the shops, watching drapes being drawn across the windows and locks fitted into the door, clinking, it happens. Someone steps out of the final shop, the bell tinkling behind her, and we nearly collide. I'm able to fling myself to the side, not before our fingers brush, sending electricity up my spine. I look up, opening my mouth to apologize, but nothing comes out.
Rose glances around her, looking a bit confused. Her eyes pass right over me, liquid brown, and it is clear that she can't see me. My hearts fall a little, even as my skin begins to flush at our proximity. Pushing my own feelings aside, I soak Rose in. With red cheeks, swollen mouth and hair a little longer than before, Rose is quite a sight.
"How could I ever have forgotten you?" I ask myself.
Rose is still looking about. "Could've sworn I saw a bloke," she mumbles, reaching up and straightening her purple cap, lips quivering in the cold. Her shoulders slump a little. "Oh, quit it. There's never anyone there."
Before I can figure out just what she means, Rose is digging into her bag for her mobile. She dials a number and then presses the mobile to her ear. The moment a man's voice rumbles on the other side, Rose brightens considerably. "'Ello. Everyone all right?"
I deflate into the wall by the little shop. She's found some other bloke. I knew it would happen; hell, I practically begged Rose to move on with her life, but I didn't think it'd be quite this soon.
Rose laughs huskily. "Yeah. I told you that I was gonna stop off and get a gift for my mum." She pauses, listening, then rolls her eyes. "Alright, fine, you were right. I forgot, okay? Got a little caught up at work." Her voice tightens at that bit and I wonder if she's still working to rebuild Torchwood. Knowing beautiful, stubborn Rose, she is, putting in everything she's got.
Juggling the mobile over to her other ear, Rose reaches into her bag and pulls out a piece of paper. I catch the word trans-dimensional on it before Rose flips it toward her face, blocking the script from me.
"Well, I thought this was a little more important than dinner. I see mum and dad every day and we just reached a-" Rose cuts off, pressing her lips together. She takes a few deep breaths in through her mouth, leaning further into the mobile. "You're right. I'm sorry. I guess I just got excited."
The man on the other end mumbles something that sounds like "...know how much this means to you."
Rose's fingers loosen and the paper slips, trailing toward the ground. She doesn't notice, too busy restraining something that's fighting to break free. Her face droops momentarily, revealing that weary expression that makes it hard for me to breathe. But as soon as her mask drops, Rose wrestles it back into control, her lips settling back into a tired smile. I try to ignore the wetness around her eyes.
"No," Rose replies gently, fingers gripping the mobile ferociously. "You really don't." She sighs once more. "It's not your fault. Don't feel bad, alright?" There's a small pause in which my eyes fall to observe the paper.
I barely hear Rose say, "I love you, Mickey," the thundering of my hearts drowning everything out. The paper folds easily into my hands and, scooping it up, I stare at it.
Rose expects to be stopped, but when her fingers brush the underside of his jaw, the Doctor shudders, leaning into her touch. As she continues to trace the planes of his face, Rose's expression lightens with awe. He doesn't understand quite how raw this is between them, how much he needs this. Ironic, really, that out of all the infinite beings in the countless universes he has visited, Rose had to be the one that makes everything slow, stop. This finite, fragile human being has the ability to make every second count between them, and outside of them, in every realm they visit. Never before Rose has he been anything but a Time Lord.
Rose mumbles something and it disorientes him.
"What?" he asks as everything comes back into focus.
Her fingers trace the curve of his cheekbone.
"I think I could get used to this body," Rose repeats teasingly. In her eyes, however, the sentiment echoes far more seriously.
"We'll just have to see," he replies, smiling. He wants to draw Rose in for a hug but it isn't the time. Not yet, not with his new face and this moment so infinitely breakable. "Merry Christmas, Rose."
"Merry Christmas, Doctor," Rose answers slowly, the moment fading away as the sound of Jackie's voice reverberates across the hall.
Rose is walking off. I'm still staring at the drawing of the TARDIS, at its precise coloring and painstaking detail. Around the drawing of the TARDIS, Rose has scribbled a handful of notes corresponding to time travel. These aren't easy equations Rose has written out. I can't imagine how on earth she got ahold of them let alone comprehended their meaning. Even now, a universe away, Rose Tyler is still surprising me.
"Thank you," Rose says, coming to a stop in front of me. "I thought I'd lost that." Her brown eyes are wide, the fear still bleeding away. She reaches out for the drawing and I hand it over, trying not to stare at her.
"Not a problem," I answer slowly, wondering how Rose can see me and why she isn't screaming at me for leaving her in an parallel universe.
Rose is eyeing me just as closely.
"I'm sorry. You just look really familiar," Rose apologizes when I catch her staring first at my eyes and then at my mouth. Unconsciously, I swipe my tongue over my lips and she follows the movement before jerking her head away, blushing. "Do I know you?"
I hesitate. It would be so easy to clear everything up. But I can feel it now, tugging at my feet. In a moment I'll be gone.
"No," I respond, hearts sinking in unison, "I don't think so. Just got one of those faces, I suppose."
"Yeah," Rose says, nodding. "Yeah. Right."
We're left just looking at each other again and it's so easy to see the way Rose is holding herself up. I did this to her.
"Well, I should be goin'," Rose cuts in, her brown eyes still locked on mine. A snowflake drifts down, landing in her beautiful blonde hair, and I nearly reach up to brush it off. "Thanks again, mate."
"Not a problem." I wave as she turns to go, my hand heavy. "Merry Christmas."
A smile climbs its way onto Rose's face. "Merry Christmas," she answers, turning around and hurrying off.
The snow begins to fall again, eagerly pouring from the skies. It embraces me, the wind whispering soothingly as it carries me away.
to be continued
a/n: I'm sorry. I couldn't resist doing a Christmas one, especially since I just finished Series 4 and the Doctor's last moment is spent with Rose, even if she doesn't know him yet. That just broke my heart, so I guess you could say that is an ode to Tennant. I hope that you all are enjoying this as much as I am.