Chapter Twelve

A/N: No reviewers.

They had finally reached the TARDIS, after many minutes of running through the ever thickening crowds, and the Doctor and Sybil both leant against the blue wooden doors of the ship, the troubles of the night forgotten for just a moment. But then the severity of the situation hit them, and neither could prevent themselves from sighing in sadness.

'How can I allow all of these people to die?' the Doctor questioned himself, though he knew the answer full well. 'Even if history gives a certain amount of people to die, Sybil is right. How can I not even try to save someone, anyone? What has happened to me?'

As he thought of the plight of the other passengers, his mind, as well as his eyes, turned to the champion of their cause, the young woman who had come from their time. He supposed that she knew the mind sets of the people a little better than he did, having lived in their world, and this was one of the reasons that he had listened to her pleas, knowing from meeting her as a child that she was an empathetic and compassionate soul by nature. 'If I did not have so much weight on my shoulders, I would like to think that she is the kind of person I would be. Perhaps I could have been, once, but not now. Not after all that I have done, and all that I may be about to do.'

"Doctor?" Sybil questioned quietly, and the Time Lord immediately turned to face the young woman, having been brought out of his reverie by her soft speech. There was a gentle smile on her features, and it almost but not quite reached her eyes, a situation that was not surprising to him, given the catastrophe that was about to occur on the ship, as even the lady now knew what was about to happen. "Doctor, quickly, we have to go now."

And so the time had come for the Doctor to make his choice. He could step into the TARDIS now, take his new companion with him and travel far and wide across the stars as he had always done, leaving history unchanged and everything the way it was. Or, as Sybil wanted him to do, he could save as many as possible from the most horrific tragedy that had ever occurred at her point in time, and they could live out the lives that they deserved, the lives that had been snatched away from them by a wish to break the record for the Atlantic crossing by ship. Was it worth possibly changing the future of the world, just so that a select few could have a few more years on the Earth before they died as well?

Suddenly, a face, vague from being buried in the recesses of his memory, swam into his vision. Astrid. On the replica of the Titanic, which had been designed by citizens of a planet hundreds of thousands of light years away, to commemorate the tragedy that had occurred on this night, she had been working as a waitress, just because she had wanted a chance to see the stars. He had promised her the universe, and then she had died for the sake of him, never getting to follow her dreams, as her life was snatched away too soon. If he could prevent that from happening again, if even one that he saved ended up happy, would that not be worth it?

In a split second, he made his decision, taking the young Crawley's hand and beginning to run in the direction of the decks, still trying to formulate a plan in his mind as to what they were going to do to help when they got there. After all, they couldn't simply stand on a platform on the main deck and shout that they had a way to stop their deaths, a small blue box in the corner of the first class dining hall. The noise would already be at a horrific level, and the chances that anyone would listen and not simply think them mad were minimal. Still, there did not seem to be anything else that they could do. They had to make themselves heard before it was too late.

But when they reached the base of the staircase to the deck, Sybil ceased her running, her facial expression showing that she was lost in thought, and the man hoped he knew her well enough now to know that it was not a pleasant one. He was considering asking her outright what was wrong, what had caused her expression to change such, but he soon found that he did not have to, as the pressure of keeping the feelings inside of her had become too much and they spilled to the surface in a hurry.

"What about James and Patrick?" she suddenly asked him, her eyes pleading desperately. "If we can get them onto your ship, then there will be more space on the lifeboats for others, the ones that we won't have time to save. That's right, isn't it, Doctor? That's what we are going to do. Doctor?"

By her final repeat of his name, the Time Lord could see that Sybil's eyes were flooded with unshed tears, as the realisation of the harsh situation they were in finally dawned upon her. She knew now, or had at least accepted, as she had suspected she had known for a long time and just not wanted to, that there was no chance she could save James and Patrick, as they were an essential part of her life, and therefore she could not alter that, as it would change the entirety of her future.

However, she refused to accept that there was nothing that could be done, and once again leapt in the direction of the staircase, desperate to find her family members before it was too late. 'There has to be something that I can do.' she constantly told herself, repeating the phrase like a mantra, as if the recurrence of the words would make them come true. 'There must be something that I can do. There has to be something that I can do.'

But before she reached the final step, the young woman paused, as an air of coldness fell over her, the kind of coldness she had felt in her bedroom as a child, when she thought she caught something move out of the corner of her eye. Something was wrong.

Behind her, the Doctor remained silent, ascending the staircase behind his companion. His mind was racing, half of it telling him to help her and support her in this, while the dominant half told him to continue with his plan. Taking the stronger opinion on board, the man persevered, reaching into his pocket and retrieving his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the young woman and pressing the control. He stepped forward quickly, prepared to catch Sybil as she collapsed, unconscious, to the ground, and lifting her into his arms, striding quickly in the direction of the TARDIS, before he could change his mind about it all.

As he closed the doors of his ship, laying the lady down across the seats and reaching for the console, the Time Lord knew that this was potentially the worst decision he had ever made.

A/N: Oh dear! Please review!