(AN) Please enjoy the latest chapter of Once More!
After all that had occurred in the console room, the Doctor had shown Rose around the TARDIS. There wasn't anything particularly significant in this tour. This Doctor's ship resembled the other Doctor's greatly, which seemed like something that would normally bore her. But there was a certain happiness that filled her now that she was re-living it all over again. The towering coral columns, the swimming pool in the library, and the kitchen that never seemed it exist in one place or mode, always shifting around the ship and changing color. All of these things had a special place in Rose's heart, and she felt extrordanarily sentimental now that she was witnessing them again.
Of course, the Doctor was completely oblivious to this. Whenever he showed her something new that would normally take a stranger by surprise, he turned to her with an excited, wild grin that absolutely screamed 'Aren't I just so impressive?'. Rose found it all to be very amusing, and she obliged him, a look of pure glee splitting her face in these moments. It was just so much, being with him here, in the TARDIS once more.
After they had gone to all the main spots, he had taken her to the rooms. There were several ones available for use, some used, some empty. And in the corner, there was one door, painted a vivid pink. It was the only door shut out of all of them, and when the Doctor wasn't looking, she jerked on the door handle. It was locked.
Rose had ended up selecting one of the more basic rooms, containing only a scratched maple wardrobe, a worn twin bed, and a bedside table. However, when she sat down on it, despite outward appearances, it was one of the most enticing, comfortable surfaces she had ever encountered. Weird Time Lord technology implemented in mattresses. She wouldn't question it.
Admittedly, things were somewhat awkward between her and the Doctor. There had been that whole moment of revelation, realizing that they were the same people, but it didn't really solve things. They knew each other so well, but at the same time they were interacting like strangers, like they had never met. That, paired with the tension of the unknown that was occurring in her life right now, made it so Rose was less than inclined to comply when the Doctor had dashed to the console, telling her they could travel anywhere she wanted to. She ended up declining, claiming exhaustion, even though she had only climbed out of bed five hours ago.
However, upon returning to her room with the purpose of thinking over all that was occurring in her life now, Rose had ended up collapsing on her bed anyways, completely clothed. She had abruptly fell into an uneven, troubled sleep, which she was woken out of what felt like about two hours later. At first, she was unaware of what had woken her up, but then she realized that she hadn't had any blankets when she had first gone to sleep. Now, she had a heavy quilt tucked around her body, and on the table, there was a mug of steaming tea.
Rose shakily picked it up, and hesitantly took a sip. She almost spat it out a second later, for it was obscenely sweet. Either her clone had very peculiar taste, or this Doctor was rubbish at making tea. She still drank more of it though, appreciating the gesture.
Rose honestly wasn't sure how to proceed at this point. Yes, she had found the parallel Doctor, but everything else in her life had been flipped upside-down. Everything that she had thought to be true had been completely shattered. And then, she had been manipulated by someone close to her, who turned out to be an alien who couldn't even be bothered to show up in person to harm her. She had no idea whatsoever where her parents and Mickey were, and instead of doing anything about it, she chose to run. Run, pathetically, with a man who she both knew and didn't recognize in the slightest at the same time. Did she trust him? Yes, because he was the only person, the only recognizable aspect of her life that she could bring herself to trust.
Abruptly, Rose jerked out of her bed, setting the tea on the table and slamming the door open. She ventured down the hallway, took a sharp right, and emerged into the console room.
"I need to find my parents," Rose stated firmly. "And Mickey. I need to figure out what's going on."
The Doctor poked his head out from underneath the console, sonic screwdriver in his mouth. He took the screwdriver into his hand, sitting up. "I 'spose you do," he said casually.
"Now," Rose said. "What type of alien was that? The one that was impersonating Mickey."
The Doctor got to his feet, dashing around the console to a monitor. "I'm not quite sure. Clearly something that is capable of taking on different shapes. Not extrordanarily technologically advanced, but enough so to create a realistic molecular holographic projection. If I just look it up using these parameters..." He paused, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard below him.
"We could be dealing with a Chameliorg, a Heliymph, a Xujikan, a Raxacoricofallapatorian, or," he gave her an apologetic look, "pretty much any non terrestrial species in this universe. At these words, Rose's stomach sank, and she suddenly felt very, very useless.
"Well, what are we supposed to do then?!" Rose exclaimed, flinging her hands up in the air. "Clearly we have no leads!"
"We'll have to go back," the Doctor replied, pulling the switch that usually started the TARDIS. The engines roared, and Rose approached the console.
"Retrace to the source," he continued. "As far as I know the workings of Torchwood weren't always so... sinister. The aliens have probably completely taken over." A sudden grin came onto the Doctor's face, and his eyes scanned hers imploringly. "Isn't this just fantastic?"
"My friends and family potentially being killed and/or tortured by an unknown source? Yes, positively brilliant," Rose said coldly.
An awkward silence befell the console room, and the Doctor visibly cringed.
"I'm sorry," he said a moment later. Rose didn't meet his eyes.
"I really am. And I will try, Rose, to my best ability, to get them back. I promise." Rose glanced at him, and his face held a look of absolute sincerity.
"Ok," Rose said reluctantly.
The ship pitched a bit, and then the sound of the engine slowly died down. They had landed. The Doctor unhinged himself from the console, and just as Rose was doing the same, she felt a reassuring grip on her hand. Surprised, she looked up at the Doctor. He smiled at her, gave her palm a squeeze, and then released her hand, dashing to the door.
Rose followed after the Doctor, and he turned to her with his finger pressed to his lips. As she started down the ramp, he slowly eased the door open. Surprisingly enough, when the door was opened, light, natural outdoor light streamed into the TARDIS. And the Doctor was frozen, hand still resting on the door handle as he took in what existed outside of the TARDIS doors.
Rose came up behind him, and her mouth fell open. Clearly, like he had done many times before, the Doctor had made an error in steering.
The two of them stood on what appeared to be a cliff face, towering over a dilapidated, empty city. Pathetic, crumbling stumps that would have at one point been towering skyscrapers loomed over rubble-ridden streets. A smoggy, dry, dust loomed over everything, accompanied by an overwhelming silence. Nothing stirred in the sprawling cityscape, and no sounds escaped the bubble of emptiness.
But that wasn't the shocking part. Rose had seen her fair share of abandoned colonies and cities during her travels with the Doctor in the parallel universe. The shocking bit was above the city, almost level with where the Doctor and Rose stood.
There were these forms, huge, white forms that drifted serenely above all this. They varied in size and shape. There were smaller ones, about the size of Rose's fist, that were round in shape, spherical masses that floated around like balloons. They were covered in spikes, but had no distinguishable features other than that. Then there were the large ones. The only similarity that they held to the other objects was their color. They were the size of small cars, and resembled jelly fish in a sense. They had large, floppy bodies, that waved on the wind, and thin, wispy tendrils that combed through the air. They almost seemed to be alive, or at least more so than the other...creatures. Occasionally, one of the tendrils would shoot out, latching onto something that appeared to be nonexistent, and holding it up to an area that Rose assumed was their face. This area was coated in small, firm bulbs of clear matter. However, the creature had no distinguishable eyes, nose, or mouth.
"Help, please help!" a woman shouted. Rose and the Doctor simultaneously swiveled to the left where this sound had come from. A middle aged woman, thin as a stick, was wobbling up to the TARDIS. She was clad in what appeared to be a dirty, torn military uniform, which bagged off of her body. Tears streaked down her unclean face, and her whole form shook. She almost appeared as though she wouldn't make it to them, and the Doctor sprung out of the TARDIS, running up to this woman, Rose on his tail.
"What is it?" he asked urgently. "What's wrong?"
"Who are you?" the woman asked. "Please, I need to know."
"The Doctor," he replied shortly, confusion apparent in his eyes.
"A Doctor?" she rasped, and a look of relief came across her face. "Please, come, hurry!" She ran off, with the same urgency as before, and the Doctor followed after her, jogging briskly. Rose followed, her heart beating in her throat. It was impossible to tell what was coming next.
They came up over the edge of a barren, patchy hill, and Rose paused at the sight that lay before them.
It resembled a campground that her mother had brought her to once when she was little. That is, if the campground hadn't had any showers or bathrooms, and if all the people attending had been horribly malnourished. Tents littered the ground, arranged in little clumps, most of which having a plume of smoke rising from the middle of them. The ground in between these tents was devoid of any grass, and cracked, clearly suffering from drought. The sound of sickness hovered over the ground, the sound of children crying and people hacking their lungs out. Just two feet from Rose, a small boy, 4 years old at the most, struggled to carry a sloshing bucket of water, barely managing not to trip over his own two feet. He stumbled, and Rose ran to him, taking the heavy burden into her arms. The boy turned his mud streaked face up to her, a look of curiosity shimmering dimly in his dull eyes.
"Hello," Rose said softly. She shifted the weight of the bucket onto her hip, extending a hand for the boy to take. The boy shied away from her, eyes distrusting.
"It's okay," Rose said soothingly. "I won't hurt you, it's fine."
The boy blinked at her hesitantly, and then reached upwards, wrapping his bony hand around her index finger. Rose smiled reassuringly at him, and a grin broke across his thin face. He only had three teeth.
"What's your name?" Rose asked.
For some reason, the boy shook his head. Rose nodded, though not really understanding why he did this.
"Where do we need to take this?" she asked, shifting the bucket on her hip. The boy smiled at her again, and then tugged on her hand, leading her to the nearest tent. For some reason, unlike the other ones, this tent didn't belong to one of the clumps. There were many others like it, lonely tents that hovered on the edge of the camp. Rose also noticed that this was the area that seemed to have the most sickness, the most coughing.
The boy let go of her hand, toddling over to the flap of the tent. He slipped in through it, and Rose ducked in after him.
The tent was very dark, and almost suffocating, significantly warmer than the outside. A horrible stench hit her nose, a smell of sweat and vomit. Rose suddenly felt very concerned about the situation here, more so than before. However, it took a moment for Rose's eyes to adjust so she could asses the situation.
There was a thin layer of blankets in the middle of the tent, and on it lay a woman, breathing laboriously. She was pregnant, at least 6 months gone, and judging from the way that the boy sat by her, running his hands through her tangled hair, she was probably his mother. The woman stirred slightly as Rose entered further into the tent, setting down the bucket.
"Hello," she said weakly.
"Hello," Rose said. The woman coughed heavily, her lungs rattling, she pulled in on herself, shaking. Rose could see that she was very sick, and she set down the bucket of water, taking the woman's hand.
"Are there doctors?" She asked. The boy took the bucket of water, dipping a used rag in it and dragging it across his mother's forehead.
"They all left," the woman whispered feebly. "They all flew away on the Centrun36. Including..." She paused, hacking again. Rose ran her thumb over the woman's palm, squeezing her hand.
"...including my husband. They made him leave, the sedated him, they-" the woman stopped, staring blearily at some point on the tent wall. Rose glanced in that direction, knowing already that there wasn't anything there.
Rose turned back to the woman. "I have a friend, he can help. What's your name?"
"Clerk," she said faintly.
It was quite the peculiar name, but from what Rose could see, this was quite the peculiar planet. She released the woman's hand, getting to her feet. "I'll go get him," she said firmly. "Just wait."
Rose emerged from the tent, and then she ran. The Doctor obviously wouldn't be where she had left him, most likely leaving with the other woman who had brought them here in the first place. She ran up to the first person she saw, an elderly man stumping on a walking stick towards a tent.
"Excuse me sir!" She exclaimed. "Have you seen a middle aged woman and a tall man in a leather jacket?" She knew her description was somewhat vague, but she couldn't formulate any other way to phrase it in her panic.
The man turned to her, mouth open like he was about to say something. But when he caught sight of her, his mouth clamped shut.
"I ain't gonna tell you nothin', you dirty Centite!" He growled. "You think your so uppity, what with your teleportation devices, huh? Too good for us? We don't need any of your god damn help around here! Go back to your dirty space ship!" He punctuated this by swinging his cane at her legs. Rose jumped back, and then started running again, fear thumping through her veins.
"And stay back!" She heard the man shouting behind her. She zipped past two more clumps, and then, much to her relief, the Doctor clambered out of the next tent. At first she smiled at the sight of him, but then her face fell as she saw the state of him. His face was long and drawn, and he looked tired, very tired.
Rose ran up to him. "Doctor!" She said.
He looked at her wearily. "Rose."
"Doctor, there's a woman, a few tents back, and she's pregnant, and she's really sick and she needs help and-"
"Rose," the Doctor interrupted. She looked at him, and saw that his face was distraught.
"Rose, I just witnessed that woman's son, the woman who found us, dying. Rose, everyone's sick." He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I can't help everyone, they're all sick. We're in the middle of some kind of plague, and it's quite possible that whatever it is, we've now caught it too."
Rose felt her stomach sinking. "Doctor, what do we do?"
The Doctor stared her down, but after a moment, he shut his eyes, putting his hand on her jaw, stroking her cheekbone, an unexpected show of tenderness.
"I have absolutely no idea."