A/N: Thank you for joining me on this adventure and please forgive me for any errors-I just now got back into watching Doctor Who and I'm trying to catch up. Unfortunately, I can't really let go of Ten/Rose, which is how this little story came into being. I have to be honest, this really was cathartic for me as I had a lot of issues with Doctor Who that apparently I thought I had buried 17 years ago. I'm pleased that our beloved Doctor is at peace.
Chapter 3 will be out in about a week, so please stay tuned. Any kudos or comments are welcome!
...
"You keep saying that Doctor. Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"
If there was one thing that the Doctor had learned in over 900 years, it was that the universe, in all its glorious, infinite beauty, could be just as equally cruel.
Rose Tyler was proof of that. For there was no other being in the universe who could rip into his soul and tear it apart quite like she could.
He'd planned out the most amazingly brilliant day for them. He'd specifically selected this moon because it was on the other side of the galaxy and he'd needed to get as much space as he could from the horrors of Krop-Tor. The date he chose was carefully calculated, down to the last minute, and for once the TARDIS was more than happy to accommodate him. He knew there would be no humans inhabiting it and after the few months he and Rose had, he was quite sick of humans.
Well, all save one human.
The same human that he should have just hauled back to the TARDIS the second he'd realized something was off.
And boy, was something ever off. He knew this wasn't a time paradox, and even though he had crossed his own timeline before, he never interacted with himself, because he knew the dangers. It was rare that he was at a loss for words, especially in this new body, but he found himself unable to explain to Rose, at least in any language she'd be able to comprehend, that whatever the couple and those children were, they could not exist. It was impossible. It was wrong. It wasn't real.
But Rose Tyler wanted it to be real. It was etched on every inch of her face. It was killing him, seeing that gleam of hope in her eyes, the wanting, as she watched the little family before them–and knowing he'd have to extinguish it. Because no matter how much Rose (or him, if he was honest) wanted that little bit of domesticity, the Doctor knew it wasn't possible. Not for them.
The Doctor glared at the couple as they conversed with Rose. They were good, amazing really. The Doctor had to applaud them. Oh, they were clever beings–whatever they were. The little boy, with Jackie Tyler's blue eyes, the colorful teenager that seemed unable to keep her mouth in check. Both children, the perfect mix of his and Rose's best features, including the two hearts he felt beating when they hugged him.
His eyes narrowed as he focused on the female. She was an ingenious work of art, she was. Everything about her–the hair, the eyes, the body, was perfectly crafted, down to the last detail. They even shared the same dazzling gigawatt smile that could bring an entire galaxy and one desperate Time Lord to their knees. The female's facial features were more defined, had a few more fine lines, a curvier, softer body, expected of someone who'd had two children. Where his Rose always had an innocent look about her, this female seemed less so, more worldly. If the Doctor had ever imagined what an older Rose would look like, well the female before them was it. Not that he would ever admit to doing so.
The Doctor felt a slight probe in his mind, and he quickly slammed down the mental shields he'd honed over the years. He locked eyes with the male, who just shrugged carelessly, as though he was just testing him. The Doctor tried to send a probe back, but knew it was useless.
The cocky, arrogant bastard just grinned instead. The Doctor could only hope the look he gave the bastard adequately voiced all the loathing and hatred he was feeling. How dare that pathetic excuse for a being even think he could pass as an older version of the Doctor? In that too tight suit, scruffy face, waltzing around like he owned the planet… The Doctor hated him. Hated how happy and content and relaxed he appeared.
"-important to be precise, Rose." The female was explaining to Rose, who eagerly hung on her every word. "Imagine your mind like, well, a rose bush for lack of a better example, where the vines are all compacted and tangled together. Think of this moment as one specific branch, and the Doctor has to prune it–while not disturbing the others."
"And to do that, we have to figure out where you are in our timeline–" the bastard added. "So I know which branch to clip."
"What, like a specific date?" Rose asked. "It's not like I really keep track of that..."
"Where were you before you landed here?" the female asked. The Doctor flatly refused to think of her as a Rose. She was a female. An incredibly gorgeous female, he'd grant her that, but just a female nonetheless.
"Um, we kinda just floated around in the TARDIS for a few days–"
"Before that?"
Rose went pale. "We were on a space base, a planet called Krop-Tor."
The couple exchanged a long, intense look.
"That narrows it down," the female murmured. "So, maybe about three, four days ago, yeah?"
"Seven," the Doctor heard himself say. "We left seven days ago. This was the first place we've been to." Because he was a selfish prat and couldn't stand the thought of ever being separated again from his TARDIS or his Rose. Hell, he'd even manipulated it so that he and Rose ended up sleeping in the library, cuddled under various blankets, under the guise of a mega-movie marathon from the eighth moon of Fomalhaut B. He made sure the TARDIS was stocked with plenty to eat that didn't begin with the word "protein." He held her as she mourned the dead of Krop-Tor, dried her tears, kissed her hair because that's all he would allow himself to do.
"Perfect," the male said, clasping his wife's shoulders. "That's exactly what I need. Let's get this over with."
Before the Doctor could interfere, Rose held up her hands and stepped back. "Wait! Before we do this, I want proof that you are, that this–" she swallowed. "Is real."
"Seriously, Rose?" The female pouted. "Look, I don't think I made this clear enough, but the longer the four of us are in this moment, the harder it will be to separate us." Her tone turned deadly. "And the children, my children–our children–are at risk."
Rose grabbed the Doctor's hand and pulled him to her. "Convince both of us–or this ends."
The woman rolled her eyes. "What do you want to ask me then? Favorite color? Favorite film?"
"Blue," said the bastard. "Pirates of the Caribbean, until you discover the rom coms of Andromeda FIfteen."
"Not good enough," Rose said. "Try again."
"Oh, for fuck's sake–" The woman froze, her eyes blown wide. "Wait. Wait. Wait, wait. I've got it!"
"Rose, what's going on?"
The female stumbled about, ignoring her husband. She reminded the Doctor of himself, when he got a particularly clever idea.
"Oh, it couldn't be! No, no, no. No. No. No." She ran her fingers through her hair. "It couldn't be that simple!"
"Rose, what the hell–" Her husband interrupted.
"Don't you see, Doctor! You were right all along!" She grabbed his head, kissing him quickly. "You are amazing!"
"Of course I am! Wait, what? What was I right about?"
"This isn't a time paradox!" Her eyes were wild as she grinned manically. "You and I, we're supposed to be here!" She pointed over to the Doctor and Rose. "And we're supposed to be there. Right here, right now! This is supposed to happen!" She whirled around to Rose, who took a step back in alarm. "Listen, Rose–has a bright yellow button appeared on the TARDIS console yet? Just under that spinny thing that the Doctor always knocks around with themallet?"
"How do you know about that?" The Doctor asked before he could stop himself. "Do you know what it does?"
"Why are you bringing up that button now of all times?" her husband asked.
She ignored both of them. "And the Doctor's driven you mad over it, right? Won't stop fussing about with it, right?"
Rose slowly nodded, her mouth open in shock.
"I haven't driven you mad about it!" The Doctor nudged Rose to get her attention. "And I'll figure it out soon enough!"
"No, you don't." The male told him, shaking his head sadly. "It's been seventeen years."
"So, how would I know about that, huh, Rose? How would I know that he spent hours on it, making you pull and flip and spin every damned thing on that console, because he couldn't stand the thought of his beloved TARDIS having a button that didn't do anything? "
"It wasn't hours," the bastard muttered.
The woman grinned at Rose. "Have I convinced you yet?"
"Yes," Rose beamed at the female, who sighed in relief. The Doctor frowned. He didn't spend every damned second on the button, that was an over-exaggeration.
"There you go!" The woman turned to her husband. "Well, go on. It's your turn. Get to it! " She jerked her head towards the bastard, who gave his wife a puzzled expression. He made a show of slowly straightening his tie, dusted some imaginary dirt from his sleeves, and then rounded on the Doctor.
The bastard gave an unholy grin. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this. Come here–" Before the Doctor could react, the bastard jerked him by his tie and pulled him further into the alley.
"Rose," the bastard called over his shoulder. "Make sure you don't touch yourself this time." He paused as both women gasped, and even the Doctor did a double take. "Oh, I'm having a lot of thoughts," the male said under his breath.
"Doctor!" he heard Rose call out in alarm as his head slammed back against the brick wall.
…
Rose wanted to follow the two Doctors, but the Other Rose quickly blocked her path.
"Rose, it's ok. He's not going to hurt himself, I promise," she said. "I think…I think the Doctor needs to get this off his chest. A bit of Time Lord therapy, if you will." She smiled softly.
Rose cocked her head to the side as she heard shouts. "Is that–are they speaking in Gallifreyan?"
"Oh, he's giving himself hell," the Other Rose laughed.
Rose slowly accepted that, biting her lip. She glanced over at the men, who were partially hidden from view. The Other Doctor was practically snarling, and whatever it was he was saying was enough to make her Doctor go pale. His eyes were wide, and if Rose didn't know better, the Doctor looked scared.
"You can ask me something, if you'd like?" Rose got the feeling that the Other Rose was trying to distract her. "I may not be able to answer all your questions, but I'll do my best."
"Can I ask about mum? Is she–"
The Other Rose brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "She's fine. She left the Estate about ten years ago. Moved to a bungalow in Shropshire, close to the Welsh border."
"Really?" Rose was shocked. "Mum moved? Why?"
The Other Rose laughed delightedly. "Oh, the Doctor and I, we uh, well, we might have helped her out some. We left a lottery ticket with the winning numbers at the house, you know the bowl she keeps on the counter where she drops the house keys at. Nothing too big mind you, but it was enough to set mum up nice. Small chocolate-box type cottage with a thatched roof and all," Other Rose told her. "Oh, and she's seeing some bloke named Gareth, who runs the local pub."
Rose laughed delightedly. "Really? Mum's happy, then?"
"God, you have no idea! She even has a garden, because she says her grandkids need a proper place to run around and play."
Rose's heart melted. "They're beautiful kids."
"They are," Other Rose agreed. "Well, the teenager can be a right terror sometimes, but..." Her expression grew wistful. "The Doctor says they've got the best bits of us."
Rose didn't bother wiping away the tears running down her cheeks. "Am I, are you–the Doctor and you–are you happy? Together?"
"Rose Tyler," the woman gave her a blinding smile. "You're going to have a fantastic life."
…
The Doctor's eyes watered as he tried to focus on the bastard. He must have been knocked senseless because there was no way he was hearing what he was hearing.
The bastard was shouting at him. In Gallifreyan. It wasn't possible.
"You stupid, brainless, gormless bastard! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"ME? You're the one that's in the wrong here–because YOU ARE WRONG! YOU SHOULDN'T EXIST! YOU ARE NOT REAL! NONE OF THIS IS REAL!" The Doctor shouted back. His chest was heaving, both hearts pounding.
The bastard smiled evilly. "You think so? Then why am I speaking in a language you've not heard in hundreds of years, eh? You know, the one from the planet you destroyed."
"You don't know anything about me!"
The man shrugged, shaking his head. "I know enough. I know you've been running most of your life, running to escape the horrors of what you've done. Skipping from planet to planet, galaxy to galaxy until you ended up in a department store basement in south London."
The Doctor felt both hearts stutter.
"And then you really started running, but for an altogether different reason, didn't you? A shop girl with a gigawatt smile and a predilection for trouble?"
"She's not just a shop girl!" he spat out, furious that the bastard would even say something like that.
The bastard raised his eyebrows. "Oh, believe me, I know that better than you. I was there when Rose Tyler accidentally caused a trade war between the Furlups on the Fifth Moon of Furlo and the Blue Bisters of Blom only to negotiate a peace treaty five hours later by giving both sides a rubber duck."
"She…what?"
"Oh, it was spectacular! She's got ballads written in her honor! One of them even went platinum–well, whatever the equivalent of platinum is on the Fifth Moon of Furlo." The man chuckled to himself, scratching his chin. "I don't think she knows that. We should go back there anyway, and show the kids."
The male smiled wistfully, as though he'd forgotten his anger, then turned to give the Doctor a knowing smile.
"Or-and wait, I know I'm in the middle of giving myself–er, yourself hell right now, but you'll love this one. There was the time she smiled at the Emperor Elect of Eldor, you know how the Eldorians are, so pompous and whatnot…" The Doctor nodded, wanting to hear the rest of this, despite the fact that he still hated the bastard. "I got arrested, locked in a dungeon, she busts in and threatens to blow up the entire palace with a jar of Marmite if they didn't release me! Oh, and did I mention she was six months pregnant at the time with a precocious five year old in tow!"
"You took Rose while she was pregnant to Eldor, are you insane? Oh, bloody hell–what am I asking this for, this isn't real! You're not proving anything other than being completely mad!"
The bastard shook his head in disappointment. "Fair enough. How about this then, sunshine…" Suddenly he was in the Doctor's face, so close he could feel his breath. "Last week when you stood in that cursed pit facing Satan, you didn't think about yourself dying without any hope of regeneration—you only thought of Rose. But it wasn't because you knew that incredibly clever mind of hers would figure out how to kill the beast, but because you knew she'd survive. Rose Tyler would live on and she'd be just fine without you."
The Doctor's eyes burned with unshed tears.
"And while that thought absolutely terrified you, it was nothing compared to the moment you realized just how much you really needed her, depended on her. Rose Tyler would be fine without The Doctor, but The Doctor wouldn't be fine without Rose Tyler. Oh, that thought scared the ever loving shit out of you, didn't it?"
"Shut up!"
"Ever since Krop-Tor, you've barely let her out of your sight, have you? Kept the TARDIS in the vortex, too cowardly to land anywhere? Made a right cozy nest of blankets in the library, snuggling and cuddling, but never letting yourself get too close? Hell, but you'd still be there if the TARDIS didn't insist on landing…" The bastard paused, his eyes wide with some sort of realization.
"Son of a bitch, the TARDIS needed to land…" he muttered under his breath, his eyes glazed over. "Clever old girl…"
He shook his head as if to clear it. "You even started holding her hand differently, have you noticed? You entwine, tangle your fingers together so you can't be easily separated."
The Doctor's face heated. He'd noticed that this morning, when they finally stepped off the TARDIS.
The man smiled. "Believe me, yet?"
"I despise you," the Doctor finally said.
The bastard grinned again, not even surprised at the Doctor's heated declaration. "Of course you do. Here I am the tall, dark, ruggedly handsome version of you, married to the woman you've loved since you first took her hand, two brilliant kids. I've got everything you keep denying yourself because you're still stuck in the whole 'oh, I destroyed my planet and I'm the last of the Time Lords–I'm not worthy of love and happiness' mood," the bastard's tone was mocking.
The Doctor felt his hand curl into a ball, and he had to fight the need to punch the bastard.
The male never noticed. "How's that working for you, eh? Just going to keep tormenting yourself and Rose, because you are too fucking cowardly to move on? Want to know something else I know? You've been thinking of taking her back, dropping her back off to her mum's, just like you did Sarah Jane, just like you did all the others–well, the ones that survived, that is."
The Doctor let out a shocked gasp as pain shot through him. "No, you can't know that," he whispered.
The man's eyes grew cold, angry, and the Doctor felt true fear as he beheld the Oncoming Storm. "Oh, but I do know that. You've thought about it before. Just abandoning Rose to live the life you think she wants, no discussion needed. You did it to her once already, back on the Gamestation, and you're thinking of doing it again, despite the pain it's going to cause her–and the devastation it will cause you."
"I have to," the Doctor gasped. "She deserves so much more than a broken Time Lord that leaves death and destruction everywhere he goes."
"Oh, she absolutely does deserve better. But that's not what she wants is it? She wants you, for some stupid reason that's beyond the universe's knowledge. She loved you when you had big ears and a worn leather jacket, and she loves you with this insanely pretty-boy face and pinstripe suit. But most of all, she loves this–" he ran his hands down his chest, making a show of adjusting that ridiculously too tight vest. "-she loves this version of you most of all, because I can and do make her happy."
"How?" the Doctor grated out. "You can't be an older version of me–I don't age! We can't have kids because Time Lord and human DNA aren't compatible."
"Think you know everything, do you?" he smirked. "The universe has a lot more to show you if you'd just stop moping about and actually pay attention. But no, you're too busy running–running from yourself, running from her, running from any sort of happiness because you can't let go of the past." The bastard blew out a long breath. "Stop fighting. Stop running."
"I've done so many horrible things," the Doctor whispered. Tears were streaming down his face in hot rivulets.
The man nodded sagely. "You have. And you may do some more. It doesn't mean you can't forgive yourself. It doesn't mean you can't be happy."
"I don't know how," he choked out, his voice trembling. Vaguely, the Doctor realized he was shaking all over. Helpless, he glanced over at the two Roses, to see if they were watching. The pair were completely oblivious, both laughing and smiling as though they were old friends catching up after a long absence.
The man–oh, fuck, might as well give in–the Doctor's future self–noticed his gaze. "She can show you! Stop fighting her. Stop fighting yourself."
The Doctor dropped his head in defeat. "I love her," he said softly.
"Then stop being such a fucking coward about it."
The Doctor sighed. "You make it sound so easy."
His future self grinned. "It honestly is."
"She's going to die," the Doctor said. "She's going to die, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. As much as the thought of being without her hurts right now, how the hell am I supposed to endure it after being with her–having children–being happy for however many years we'll be lucky enough to have?"
"Do you remember what Sarah Jane said to Rose? 'Some things are worth getting your heart broken for.' Come on, don't tell me you've not thought about what life would be like with her. I know you did. You sat there staring at her under that black hole and listened to her talk about mortgages, carpets, and jobs and dreamed along with her. You wanted it too. And here I am, telling you can have it. Well, without the mortgage part."
"I still don't think this is real, you know," the Doctor told him. "I'll admit, if I was to grow old," the future version of him bristled, "then you know, well done." The Doctor gestured to him. "Love the hair. Hate the horrible plaid. Glad you kept the shoes."
The future version crossed his arms. "If you don't think this is real, then why are you fighting this so much? If you're right, then none of this matters. Just let me go and remove yours and Absolutely Adorable Rose's memories of this meeting, and voila!" He snapped his fingers with a flourish. "You can go back to your manically morose 'I want to snog Rose Tyler every second of the day, but I'm an old, decrepit harbinger of death and refuse to be happy, while making the love of my life miserable and pretend everything is ok' self. Nothing will have changed. You know, since this isn't real."
The Doctor exhaled loudly. The–ok, might as well admit it–ruggedly handsome older version of himself, made a convincing argument. None of this made sense. But, there was that tiny voice in the back of his brilliantly clever mind that wondered, what if? What if this was real? What if he could allow himself the freedom to love, be happy, and forgive himself. What if it was just that simple? He could have everything he didn't know he craved–life with Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS. Traveling the universe, apparently with two beautiful children and no dog. The Doctor frowned. He liked dogs. Cats were no good, but dogs were great.
"How come you never got a dog?" he asked the Ruggedly Handsome Doctor, who blinked owlishly at the question.
"Rose felt like the kids needed to be older, so they could learn responsibility. Peter is fine, but the teenager–" he shivered. "I bet the teenager will try to train it using Raxacoricofallapatorian commands only. Either that or teach it how to fly the TARDIS." He gave a wry smile. "I'm telling you, if you can survive a teenage daughter, with horrible taste in music and fashion, you'll be able to survive anything."
…
Rose watched as the two Doctors, both grinning as though they shared a joke, came over to where she and Other Rose stood talking. Both men seemed much more relaxed. The Other Rose had done a good job of keeping her distracted while the two conversed, telling her stories about their children and some of the antics they got up to in the TARDIS as well as back home on Earth.
The Doctor took her hand, threading their fingers together, and pulled her close to him.
"He's going to erase your memory first, ok? I'm going to be right here, making sure you're unharmed. He's going to start from the moment you met Peter, nothing before that time," he whispered in her ear. Rose trembled in response. "Then he'll erase mine–I'm going to remove all my mental shields for him. He's going to start at the moment I found you here in the alley. He'll implant a false memory that we just got separated for a few minutes."
Rose bit her lip. "Do you–did he–," she stammered, trying to compose her racing thoughts. "Do you believe this is real now, Doctor?" She held her breath, terrified of his answer.
He pulled back, giving her a smile that made her weak. "Let's find out. Together." An assuring wink followed, and the Doctor stepped away, keeping her hand clasped tightly in his.
"Make it quick," he motioned to the Other Doctor.
Anxiety poured into Rose as he approached her. "Will this hurt?" she asked.
"I'd never hurt you," the Other Doctor said as he gently cupped her cheeks.
"Everything will be fine, Rose," the Other Rose said as she stood beside her. Rose thought she felt something brush against her, but wasn't sure. "Trust him."
"Close your eyes," the Other Doctor told her. "I will be quick–just keep the memory of when you met Peter at the forefront of your mind. Now, close your eyes, Rose."
"Hold on–" Rose grabbed the Other Doctor's tie, and tugged him closer so she could whisper in his ear, hopefully where the other two couldn't hear her ask the question that she'd been dying to ask since she first laid eyes on him.
Warm air caressed her ear as he responded. Her heart skipped a beat, then everything went black as she slumped against her Doctor.
The smile on her face could only be described as beatific.
…
The Doctor turned to his wife. "Go get the kids and I'll meet you back at the TARDIS. I'm going to keep a distance, but I need to make sure they are safe when they revive."
She glanced over at the younger couple. "Why am I smiling like that? What did you say?"
Unable to help himself, he kissed her. "I'll tell you tonight. We don't have much time before the–uh, we–wake up."
She narrowed her eyes. "You better." She reached up to steal another kiss. "I love you. See you in a bit."
The Doctor slowly backed away from the pair, keeping an eye as he blended in with the rest of the market. By now, it was early evening, and the market wasn't long from closing for the day.
The couple slowly came to, both of them blinking in the waning light. The Doctor watched, amused as the pinstriped man gazed at the blonde dazedly. Her lips were still curled into a blinding smile. He wrapped his arm around her, keeping her close. She leaned into him, her eyes shining with love.
"Come on," the Pretty-Boy Doctor said to the Absolutely Adorable Rose. "There's a restaurant not far from here that floats over a glowing violet lake. The chef is an old acquaintance of mine–he helped me out of a scrape ages ago. I've reserved the table with the best view…"
The Doctor drifted into the small crowd, blending into the night.
"Mum, I didn't mean to get us Back to the Futured–" Peter whined as the Doctor approached his family. Thankfully, the TARDIS landed on the opposite side of the market, and knowing that clever girl, it probably was intentional.
"No one is getting Back to the Futured," Rose told their son in a no-nonsense tone of voice.
The Doctor joined his family. "Didn't we all decide we were no longer going to use 'Back to the Future' as a verb? I thought we all had that conversation after the whole 'Hot Tub Time Machine' incident." He shook his head. "You humans and your time travel movies. None of you have got it even close–" he told his wife, who rolled her eyes.
"There was that episode of Futurama that at least got the theory behind it right," his daughter ran to him, giving him a big hug. The Doctor wrapped his arms around her, wondering what the teen could possibly want. "Now that you made sure your younger selves are ok, can we go now? This planet is bor-ing," she sighed wearily as only a teeanger can.
"Where are we going next, dad?" Peter asked as they all filed into the TARDIS.
The Doctor flipped a switch, pulled a lever, and grabbed the mallet to give the warp drive a solid wack. He punched the coordinates into the display.
"How about Barcelona?" Both he and his wife winced as their children screamed in delight.