Hey, all! I know it's been a bit, but I've been pretty busy these past few weeks. I haven't gotten any typing done whatsoever, and I'm leaving tomorrow for the whole weekend (or at least, most of it). So I thought that before I left, I'd at least update this one-shot story of mine. I have actually mental dictated three different potential one-shots to myself over the past few days (that's what happens when I can't get to a computer in time :P). This is the first of those.

Anyhoo, enough of my ranting. Thanks to all those who read and followed! Some reviews would be nice, too. Especially if you're thinking about requesting a one-shot (see my previous chapters for more info…it might actually be chapter 5 or 6…somewhere along those lines).

God bless and have a great day (or night)!
ThePro-LifeCatholic

I guess that now would also be the perfect time to make disclaimers: I don't own Doctor Who or any of the characters/trademarks of the show. I don't own the photo used for this story cover, and in my "Personality Switch" chapter, some parts of TenToo's speech was taken from a tumblr post that I saw on Pinterest. To the inventor of that timey-wimey speech goes the credit. If you ever read this, you know who you are, and your Doctor-twist on the Tennant and Tate skit is awesome. :)

Writing Prompt #75: Rescue Mission

Characters: Ninth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Bad Wolf, mentions of other Doctors

Shippings: Rose/Nine

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance/Angst

Rating: K…K+-ish?

Time Frame: "Parting of Ways"

The TARDIS is thrown into the Time Vortex. Her doors slam shut; golden light illumines the interior of the ship.

Rose stands in the midst of it, the heart of the Doctor's ship intermingling, fusing to her being, her very soul. And she can see. Oh, she can see. And the light shines and she can hear music. Beautiful music that makes her want to cry and scream and sigh and stand still in perfect silence and laugh all at once. Two single tears of pain, anger, joy, and peace slip down the girl's face. They leave a trail of pale gold along her cheeks. And through the music, through the golden haze, a single thought stands out. A combined cry from the depth of Rose's soul and the TARDIS' heart:

My Doctor. My Doctor. My Doctor. My Doctor.

Over and over and over again, like a heart beating.

She feels the turn of the worlds.

She can sense the speed at which the TARDIS is traveling at that very second. How flimsy the wooden box feels compared to the might of the vortex.

Then the ship stops, and Rose knows exactly where and when she is. She has no need of a Doctor to tell her.

Her head is filled with voices, sights, and sounds from everywhere and anywhere. But she pushes past the loud clamor, and she can hear the voice of the Dalek Emperor. The words are lost to her from within in the box.

But then Rose hears the Doctor. Her Doctor.He whom she had come to save.

The TARDIS doors open of their own accord, and Rose is silhouetted against the light. Energy (golden and powerful and visible to everyone) emanates from her being. The Dalek Emperor is shocked.

Rose vaguely catches his confused cries, his sharp commands, his demands for explanation.

But she only has eyes for the Doctor.

He looks at her, crouched on the floor. She moves toward him, vanishing from the doorway and appearing again, closer. She has no need of walking, not when she stands above time and space. Now she can see his blue eyes clearly. There's a mixture of emotions there: confusion, shock, amazement…could it be anger? Perhaps a dash of pride and admiration?

"What've you done?" he asks. It's the only thing he can think to say.

And Rose looks at him, the energy of the Time Vortex burning in her own eyes, turning them from brownish-green to golden.

"l looked into the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into me."

This is the truth.

"Rose…you looked into the Time Vortex. No one's meant to see that."

But the Doctor seems to know that he's not talking to Rose Tyler anymore. What she is - who she is – is not Rose, but is at the same time. Just as she is both the TARDIS, and not the TARDIS. She is both the vortex and not the vortex. A strange combination of the three, and yet something that rises above them all. She knows exactly who she is, was, and always will be.

She holds up her hand, and it's enough to stop the weapons of the Daleks. She can feel their hatred and fear; fear for her and the Doctor. But she is no abomination, and her Doctor is no coward, nor killer.

"I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself."

She's discovering it for the first time, marveling that the messages throughout the Doctor's life were her own. But at the same time, she's always known that the two small words were leading to this.

"I take the words, and I scatter them. A message to lead myself here."

And she sees the words. She watches as they fly through the Doctor's life. The graffiti on the wall, the corporations and companies, the confusing words that slip from the tongue of different people, pointing to now.

But she also sees them in the Doctor's future. In the days when stars would go out, when another false god would rise from the ashes. In the darkest days of the Doctor, with a new face (she could see him and know him), he would need to see those words. 'Bad Wolf' on every banner and street sign.

And she hears those words echoing from far before. From the time forgotten, from the day cursed by the Doctor. 'Bad Wolf' was uttered before she came to be, and she shares them with a face and voice that is like her own, in the terrible Moment. The Moment that the Doctor can never remember.

The Doctor is talking to her, but she can hardly hear him for the noise in her own head. The deafening sound of a billion, billion nations and all of time and it hurts.

"…You've got the entire Time Vortex runnin' through your head. You're gonna burn!"

She can feel the burning.

Every breath, every heartbeat, every movement is pain. But it's beautiful pain, sustaining and killing her all at once. She can't explain it. She's never felt pain so intense, but she's never felt more alive and free.

And nothing he could say would stop her. Rose Tyler died and gave birth to Bad Wolf. Died (and will die and would've died) to save her Doctor.

"I want you safe."

She looks down at the Doctor, and it's Rose speaking, not Bad Wolf.

"My Doctor. Protected from the false god."

Is she describing the Emperor, or some other dark entity? She knows his whole life, his every face. The countless gods and demons he would face, did face, including the false god that rages within his own person.

"I am immortal."

Bad Wolf hears these words. The blasphemy of the Dalek, to assume rights over the right course of time. Rose retreats, and Bad Wolf is speaking again.

"You are tiny. I can see the whole of time and space. Every atom of your existence, and I divide them."

The words warble. The pain within is increasing. Before her eyes, she sees the entire history of the Daleks, from Skaro to Trenzalore and even beyond. She sees them falling and rising and falling again, ever relentless. Their hatred and cruelty, especially towards the Doctor. She knows his countless defeats, how helpless he has felt (and will feel and feels now) towards them.

There is nothing to fear from them, my Doctor.

All she has to do is raise her hand, and they vanish. The Daleks are torn apart, their atoms floating about the room, escaping through the cracks under the doors and drift into the universe.

"Everything must come to dust. All things…everything dies. The Time War ends."

She reaches out to the ships. It didn't matter if they had been a million light-years away; she stands apart from space as well as time, and distance is no obstacle to her. She feels them falling apart, the Daleks, the ships; every last one of them.

The Emperor is last, and he dies like all the others. The false god slain.

She spreads her arms out, and tears stream down her cheeks, leaving trails of black mascara. She can see 2.47 billion children, the screaming and dying of countless planets and systems. She knows the terrors of the Time War, the bloodlust and the torments.

Everywhere, through time and space, past, present, and future, she can see innocents perishing and evil trampling down the good. She sees the pure being extinguished, the anguish of lost loved ones. The pain of creation is weighing down on her.

And she wonders how the Doctor can live his life without crying every passing second for all that was ever lost, all that would be lost, all that was being destroyed at that very moment across the universe.

"Rose, you've done it! Now stop. Just let go!"

She wants to let go. Within her, Rose Tyler is withering and dying. The Time Vortex is too great, the knowledge and power too much for a human vessel. And yet…

"How can I let go of this? I bring life."

"But this is wrong! You can't control life and death!"

"But I can. The sun and the moon; the day and the night."

In some hallway of Crusader 50, Jack gasps as life is forced into him. It's nothing (not now) for Bad Wolf to reunite the soul with the body, to bring life to the dead. This one small ability. There is nothing to stop her.

Well, nothing except for Rose Tyler.

"…But why does it hurt?"

She's human and this relationship between her and the Time Vortex is incompatible. She knows this; the question itself is redundant. But that fact can't stop her from asking why. Why anyone should have to pay so extravagantly for such a privilege.

"The power's gonna kill you, and it's my fault."

Not your fault, Doctor!

Why couldn't he see? The reason for this was to save him. Never, never did she want to hear him blame himself for her actions. How freely she had given herself for him; didn't he know that? How willing she was to bear the pain (pain that was pushing forward and overcoming her, drowning out the singing of the universe).

"I can see everything. All that is, all that was, all that ever could be."

She can see a future where she's with the Doctor forever. She can see a beach that bears her name and can hear the words-that-might-have-been. She can see a glorious golden timeline where she saves the Doctor from every falsehood, and brings the universe into an endless age of peace. No wars, no injustice, no bloodshed, no tears or regrets or hatred.

"But that's what I see, all the time! And doesn't it drive you mad?!"

Bad Wolf is dying. Rose is dying. The Time Vortex is too much, too much. How short-lived, how unfair the universe was. The one thing to keep the Doctor safe forever was going to die, right here, right now.

The golden timelines are fading and dying. The song continues, a haunting melody that sways tantalizingly within her reach.

"My head," Rose whimpers. Bad Wolf is perishing, and Rose breaks through the golden haze, the lofty power that separates her from her Doctor.

"Come here."

"It's killin' me!"

Only one will live.

Bad Wolf knows this, and Rose knows it, too.

If the Doctor doesn't leave her to burn, then he will die. Such an ironic twist of events; Rose would've died to save her Doctor (in a way she did), but now she's going to be the reason for his demise.

She looks at him, and knows that he knows this too. But he reaches out to her, taking her arms in his own firm, strong, gentle hands. She knows what his decision will be (she can see all of time and space, and she knows what must come to pass, and what never can be).

"I think you need a Doctor."

He pulls her close, and they kiss. The golden energy streams away from Rose, into the Doctor. And he can see the thoughts, the timelines, the pain and the beauty that danced before Rose's eyes. The weight of time and space, the echoes of 'Bad Wolf' resounding across the universe.

Rose falls into his arms, unconscious. Bad Wolf has fulfilled her task; the Doctor is safe. The vortex is sent back into the blue box, and the heart is returned to the TARDIS.

But forever more the words echo throughout time and space. Forever they mingle with the song of the universe, gleaming with golden rays of light, hope, and life.

The two most powerful words in the universe.

Bad Wolf

…

So…this was actually way longer than I had intended. But I hadn't encountered any other Bad Wolf-centered fics (I was surprised, to be honest). I mean, Rose could see all of time and space. She could see the Doctor's every face, and everything he would encounter. She could probably see the horrible aftermath of Doomsday, when she'll have to say good-bye to her Doctor. She could see the Time War, and all the awful things that ever happened or would happen.

But I also realized that she could see the words "Bad Wolf" that appear in "Turn Left". I mean, how else could those words have gotten there? And the Moment using "Bad Wolf" as her form, when Bad Wolf technically hadn't come along yet.

All in all, it was just so interesting to try and dig into what Rose/Bad Wolf was thinking throughout this very short scene in "Parting of Ways".

The dialogue may be a bit confusing and disjointed, but I wanted it to be that way. Like when the Moment or the human TARDIS is speaking, and they're constantly jumping from one thing to another, 'cause they've got all these things running through their minds. I wanted to go for that confusing, sort of jumbled and rattling train of thought.

Anyhoo, hope you guys enjoyed!