Author's Note: Thank you SO MUCH to everyone that has read and reviewed and favorited! I love writing, but it makes it even better when people enjoy what I do :) Thank you again! Hope you enjoy chapter 3 of Family Reunion!
He raises an unsteady hand, softly touching her cheek. Blue eyes drink her in—after so many losses, so much death, to have one come back to him, his own flesh and blood for that matter, is more than he could ever hope for. The place in his mind that has been nearly devoid of sound since his people vanished now has a bright hum accompanying the metallic whisper of the TARDIS. The absence of silence threatens to overwhelm him, and the arm still around his daughter clutches tighter with desperation. If she feels him trembling, she makes no mention. Instead, she adds her tears of joy to his, and after a moment they are still. She pulls back once more and he swipes a finger over the apple of her cheek. "Oh, my darling girl. It has been far too long."
She quirks an eyebrow playfully and exclaims, "I'll say! You look so different, Father. How have you changed so much? It's only been two years!" Jenny's eyes roam his lined face once more, again looking for signs that connect this man to the one she once knew. She knows that this man is her father; the mental link they share makes it easy to believe. But apart from the manic energy present in his eyes, she can see nothing she remembers. She frowns, dropping her arms suddenly. "But…it's only been two years," she repeats quietly.
He sighs, reaching a hand towards his face to scratch his chin. "Jenny, our species, the people of Gallifrey, were superior to most others. Nearly all others, in fact. In so many ways. You know about the telepathic ability," his eyes dart to her forehead with a proud smile, "but that is just one of the many things that make Gallifreyans, that make us, so much better than all of the inferior species in the universes. You see, we have—"
"Excuse me." Jenny and the Doctor turn to stare at Clara, who had, until that moment, been watching the exchange with mounting frustration. Dark, brooding, and ancient, this Doctor has none of the big, sad eyes that she is used to, and acts more like an isolated god among men as opposed to the benevolent alien eager to save as many lives as possible with an adorable, dorky grin plastered to his face. She's not sure she likes this new Doctor, who is even more mercurial than before. He had been keen to leave the girl who looked like his daughter far behind, almost distressed in his haste to escape, even going as far as to insinuate a lack of wit and intelligence on her part, and now is embracing the girl, acting as if he never wanted to leave in the first place. And then, to say how superior his species is to all others? Because of some death cheating parlor trick that looks like a sneeze?
The Doctor glances around the quiet alley, eyes catching the bins with interest—he always finds useful things in the rubbish—then looks squarely at Clara. "Yes? Anything you'd like to contribute?"
Definitely rude, this one. "As a matter of fact, yes, Doctor, there is something. It's bad enough you go on and on about how inferior other species are—"
He sighs in irritation. "Well, they are, Clara. In fact, I previously called you humans 'apes', if you must know, so really, I'm being nice."
Bloody hell, but this man is infuriating. "Sure," she replies, her eyes rolling skyward. "The thing is, Doctor, and I'm sure your other companions would have agreed, is that people don't like being told they are part of a second-rate species—"
"Now, I most certainly did not say second-rate; I think most species have a lot of potential and—"
"All I'm saying," Clara says, her voice rising, "is that it sounds a bit patronizing, actually, the way you do it, as if you're doing us lesser people a favor by not calling us apes!"
Clara's hands are on her hips, which the Doctor recognizes from the companions she had mentioned. If Rose was here, the gesture would be complemented with a stern glare and probably a lecture about how even though his brilliance was insurmountable, that did not give him the right to act like a pompous arse, and would he like to talk to Jackie about it? Donna would have used the gesture to preempt a slap. The Doctor is still not sure yet how Clara would use it—she's quite a mystery, this one. As such, he puts his hand forward in a placating way. Ben, who has, in the past with Jenny, made this grave error, grimaces and leans towards her. Mistaking the argument unfolding for a lover's spat, he whispers, "Let's give them a moment, yeah?"
Jenny glances away from her father and the red-faced Clara. She starts to nod at Ben, and is taking a step towards him when the Doctor turns and says, "Oh, there is no need for that."
Ben looks at the Doctor. "I just figured you'd want time to talk to your…er," he trails off awkwardly, not knowing what to call the young brunette to the older man. He's seen many couples, some traditional in the ancient sense, others drastically different even for the year 6014. He's not an ageist, by any means; if the old guy needed someone young to take care of him, who should argue?
The Doctor laughs, clearly understanding what Ben is trying badly not to imply. "Truly, no need for that nonsense. Clara is my companion. Strictly platonic. I don't meddle with relationships. It tends to get messy." He steadfastly ignores his brief marriage to Queen Elizabeth the First and the dalliance that was River Song.
Clara crosses her arms. "Yeah, wouldn't want to stoop so low, would you, Doctor?"
The Doctor opens his mouth to reply, but Jenny steps in. "Alright, enough! I didn't find you just to watch you bicker with some woman I don't know!" A look of confusion crosses her features. "Which reminds me. Father, where is Donna?"
His eyebrows draw downward, mouth set in a firm line. A flash of pain enters his eyes as he says, "She's gone, Jenny. She's been gone a long, long time."
Ben grasps Jenny's hand firmly. She had told him as much as she could about the woman she considers a surrogate mother; Donna had named her, had convinced her father that she was worthy of his love, that she was like him. Ben can't help feeling bereft that he will never meet the amazing redhead, and can only imagine how Jenny feels. She softly speaks, and he squeezes her hand tighter. "Dead?"
The Doctor briskly shakes his head. "Jenny, when I met you, do you remember I said I was a traveler?" At her nod, he continues. "I also told you I am a Time Lord, and as such, I travel through time in order to protect it. You last saw me two years ago, your time. It's been over a millennia for me. Donna is alive, never aging, in her time-stream. Were I to enter it, she would unfreeze, grow older. I could go to the end of her life, if I wanted, but it is better that my companions remain ageless. They live longer that way." A twinge of guilt surfaces for Amy, Rory, Adric, River, and countless others.
Jenny takes his hand in her free one. "Oh, Father," she says sympathetically. He waves away her concern, and is about to continue his explanations, when she says, "Hold on. You said millennia. You said it's been over a thousand years since you last saw me?" She gapes incredulously. "How old are you?"
He scratches his chin in thought, a gesture Clara is quickly coming to recognize as his new "thinking pose". It is a lot easier to manage than flailing arms and manic pacing, and she is glad that this new version of her Doctor got something right, at least. "That's the question, isn't it? Two thousand? Give or take a few hundred years? I tend to lose count every once in a while. Then I go back and count again, when I have a moment. Two thousand seems right."
Ben exchanges a look with Clara, who shrugs, as if this impossible number is nothing new. He glances at Jenny, who is biting her lip with agitation. She worries that she is like her father, and also not like him. How could she stay with Ben if her life span is that of her father's? How could she be with him for fifty, sixty, seventy years, if her years were to stretch to hundreds, thousands? But, if she is not like her father, then she would simply be one more death he can add to his roster, someone else for which he can feel pain.
The Doctor, unaware of the turmoil his daughter is feeling, says, "In answer to a previous question, the people of Gallifrey were able to cheat death, so to speak, by rewriting their DNA on a molecular level, creating an entirely new person. Same memories, same person, different looks and different personality. It is called 'regeneration'. You did it, I assume. Do you remember a glow at all? Coming from your skin or breath after you died, perhaps?"
Jenny nods. "The men on Messaline said this yellow mist came out of my mouth, and then I woke up."
"Regeneration energy. If I had waited longer, I would have been there for you when you awoke. I'm so sorry." His last self had tried to make it a point to not dwell on the past, even going so far as to conveniently forget the children of Gallifrey. This self is not as oblivious. He regrets, now, not staying, too willing to believe that his daughter was too much like him, rather than being just the right amount of him.
Jenny shrugs, releasing the grip of both men in the process. "Don't worry about it. I found you, didn't I? And it didn't take me hundreds of years," she states with a cheeky grin. "So, Father. Where's your ship? Ben and I are ready to set sail, so to speak." She glances around the empty alley curiously, as if expecting to find a vessel powerful enough to travel through time and space. Her eyes catch a primitive, rusted refrigerator, and her brows raise with interest. It certainly looks different; perhaps a teleport device? Why else would her father and his companion have raced to this particular alley? She points to it excitedly and asks, "Is that how you get to it?"
The Doctor follows her gaze with confusion. "To what? What?" He looks at Ben with mounting alarm. It would be fantastic, brilliant even, to have Jenny aboard the TARDIS, like it should have been years and years ago. But surely she didn't expect to have another human tag along? It is bad enough having just one. They wither and die so quickly. He imagines he'll run through this one swiftly, if she wasn't so keen on dying and reappearing somewhere else, as someone else. Tricky, this one. He glares at Clara, as if the anomaly of her existence is her fault.
She stares right back with defiance, knowing exactly what is going on in that big, dumb head of his. "Doctor. You did say that we had trouble ahead. That we were going to go into darkness?" She states this almost sarcastically. "Wouldn't it be easier with more than two?"
"Yes, but—"
"Nope. No buts. She's your daughter. And he's with her. And where we're going, we'll need all the able hands we can get. So stop being a git."
He sighs, turning to Jenny. She is smiling widely, a grin that is poorly copied on Ben's face, who looks more worried than anything. "Yes, alright. Jenny, it's time to meet the TARDIS."
"It's bigger on the inside! Wicked!" A thin smile touches the Doctor's lips as he watches Jenny take everything in, from the flashing orange time rotor to the Gallifreyan writing spinning above it. She gently brushes her hand over the metal railing surrounding the console, looking back at Ben. She laughs at the dumbstruck look on his face; he has never seen a ship like this, one that was disguised as an odd, blue box.
Clara stands to the side with the Doctor, remembering her first time walking into the TARDIS. "Good decision, then, Doctor?"
"Hm?" He glances briefly at Clara, then back to his daughter, who is now dancing around the grating with a look of glee. The TARDIS hums in delight at the new addition, reaching her song out to the Doctor with joy. Being always inside his lonely head can put a strain on the old girl, and she is thankful he has someone new to fill the void. Smile back in place, he says to Clara, "Yes. Brilliant decision, actually. I'm glad I thought of it."
She chuckles. "Same old modest Doctor. You know, it wouldn't kill you to say thanks, every once in a while."
His grin widens. "True. Thank you, Clara. For staying with me. And for this," his arms sweep the console area, where Jenny is laughingly gesturing to Ben, who is still wearing a stunned look. "I might have left her otherwise."
"No, Doctor. You've changed, but you've not changed that much."
Placing a grateful palm on her shoulder, he nods and strides to Jenny. "So, Jenny. Now that you're here, there is no reason why we should not traverse on."
She turns, beaming with excitement, practically bouncing like an overactive child on Christmas morning that has already had too much chocolate. "Ooh, where to, Father? I've been to loads of places—not, probably, as much as you, I'm sure!—Tweed, Kulfax, a place called Barcelona that had such funny creatures—looked like dogs but with no noses! The locals kept saying something to us over and over while laughing, I think it was a joke, but we couldn't speak their language, but I think it had something to do with how dogs smell! And we went to Gulry, and had the most delicious apples, but they're not called apples on Gulry, they're called—"
"Gullaries, yes. Did you have any gullary pie? Best fruit pie this side of the galaxy, I'd say!" Her exhilaration is infectious, and he feels younger than he has in years.
"Oh, yes! It was wonderful! We had it with cream from a cow. Apparently they are Earth-based mammals! We didn't get to see one, but they had them at zoos. Ooh, Father! Can we go to Earth? Can we? I've heard so much about it, and I've even met a human that had lived there, too!"
He smiles indulgently, starting to move towards the controls at the console. "Not just yet, dearie. Now, we're going into darkness. How would you like to go to my home planet?" he says with an air of anticipation, as his hand pauses on a switch to take them into the vortex. "How would you like to find Gallifrey?"