The best, worst thing about sharing a tele-empathic soul-link with one's mate was how difficult it was to be dishonest.
For obvious reasons, the vast majority of Rose's fellow humans could never understand this. So it was no use talking to any of them about it. Not even the innately empathetic Donna.
That said, had Donna ever been in a similar bondmate boat, she'd probably be quick to reassure Rose. In her head, Rose could almost hear her, vehemently declaring it was a good thing that emotional dishonesty wasn't impossible, because at times, too much openness could cause a bloody big problem.
"He's on a cliff's edge right now and you're his tether, Rose," said Rose's inner Donna. "Without you, he'd be flinging himself headfirst into a sea of stupidity."
Rose used her fingers to press back a smile, looking over at the real Donna, who was deep in conversation with Jack on the other side of the barn. The Doctor, hands wringing, was pacing the floor again, and looking out the partly open doors every other second. His jaw was tight with impatience, but, to his credit, he was still here, waiting for Marin to return from her mysterious errand.
She alone could feel the power radiating off him, the simmering danger. Had she not been here, Rose was certain the Doctor would not be waiting around for anything, especially not for other people to help him. He'd be off without pause or thought, boldly landing his TARDIS wherever it would make the biggest ruckus, because going down in a blaze of glory was glory enough for him.
Pause there, and it was very simple. Rose really had no choice but to stay at his side and rein him in, feigning a confidence she didn't really feel.
One elbow on the table, she cradled her head in her hand while surreptitiously massaging one aching temple. It was hard work, keeping her emotions quiet enough that the Doctor wouldn't notice them, like having a silent cry in bed, reining in every sound and shudder. The strain of it had given her a headache, which she also had to hide from the Doctor. God. This was so stupid.
But what choice did she have? If he found out she shared his worries, she knew what he'd do. Bundle her off to the TARDIS and then go mad. Well, madder.
Unless he subsided into total rationality, which was equally possible.
That was the bit that complicated things. The bit that made her wonder if he'd possibly, perhaps, maybe been right when he'd begged her not to accompany him on this trip.
Their plan to work in the shadows had been wrecked on arrival, and confrontation with the Doctor's enemies was imminent. He was not afraid of Rassilon– just terrified Rassilon would discover his wife.
Rose knew she was the Doctor's greatest source of strength. But here? She may also be his kryptonite.
Sunlight lay in soft splinters across the table, seeping in through the woven panels adorning the inside of the barn's walls. Rose repetitively traced her finger down the length of one of them, trying to decide on the wisest course of action. Her daughters, of course, were always on her mind– well, in her mind, by means of a filial psychic link, their presence warmer than the sunbeam she was touching. She tuned into them briefly, not enough to draw their attention, just checking in, as she frequently did when separated from them. Whatever they were doing, her girls were content, which was a comfort. It was also a forceful reminder of how vitally important it was that she get this right. She and the Doctor must return safely to their children.
Rose re-attuned to reality just as Donna was saying something to Jack about her own daughter. "Yeah, she's a smart girl, but she's only fifteen. So I worry, even though the Doctor promised I won't be gone for more than a few days in her timeline. Not that Reese is alone, she's with her dad. They have a good relationship but he's just not home enough, you know? He doesn't get that it's important."
"So he's kind of thick, huh? Though I suppose he'd have to be, if he let you go."
Donna lifted her chin and gave him a queenly look. "Oh, it was the other way around, believe me."
"Of course!" Jack laughed. "So what happened?"
"Well–" Donna paused, hesitation creeping into her expression. "Actually, should I be telling you any of this? Spaceman's been eavesdropping, you know, and he's probably filing this conversation away as another excuse to remove your memories of this trip."
She directed a laser stare at the Doctor's profile, like she'd caught him in the act. But the Doctor only continued to pace across the floor and did not, in fact, seem the slightest bit aware Donna and Jack existed. It was a testament to how preoccupied he was.
"What would I do with information about your ex-husband?" Jack wondered aloud.
"Dunno, warn my past self not to marry him?"
Jack lifted an eyebrow and regarded her cheekily. "So, you've met me in your past? Really?"
Okay, now they were poking their toes into dangerous waters. "Don't answer that, Donna," Rose called over, right as one of the big main barn doors rattled fully open. The Doctor spun toward the sound, suddenly on high alert, but thankfully it was only Marin. Standing in the doorway, she beckoned them over, indicating they ought to step outside. Donna and Jack were nearest, but wisely allowed the Doctor to push by and peer out first. As he did so, his body brimmed with quiet surprise. Rose's chair screeched as she shoved it back, eager to see what was happening.
When the Doctor glanced back and shook his head at her, she sank back down. Right. Got to stay hidden.
Marin bustled toward Rose, gesturing impatiently. "They are here to see you," she hissed.
"What?" Rose frowned, confused, then looked past her to the Doctor when she felt his anger surge. He had whirled to face Marin, his brows low.
"You told them about her? Why?"
"She will make you a legend." Marin spoke chidingly, like he was an inattentive schoolboy. Her work-rough hand took hold of Rose's bare elbow, forcing Rose to move her feet as she was steered toward the Doctor. Shock was rapidly followed by excitement, her headache vanishing as she let the positive emotions flow freely through their bond.
The Doctor came over, either to meet Rose or stop her in her tracks. Craving closeness with him after her own enforced distance, Rose slid her palms down the sleeves of his long coat, twined her fingers with his and peered up into his face. His eyes met hers squarely, stormy but honest about it, which gave her a zing of guilt. The good part was she could tell right off he wasn't going to be stubborn about this. Marin's statement had him intrigued.
Without saying anything, the Doctor spun on his heel and headed toward the doorway again, this time towing Rose along by the hand. Jack and Donna moved aside, staying back as Rose and the Doctor stepped outside.
After the relative dimness of the barn, the sunlight was blinding. Rose shielded her eyes with a hand, blinking and squinting as the shadowed blobs on the sand gained detail. The crowd of people coming toward them were sombrely dressed in browns and blacks, dozens of feet marching up a cloud of dust. The women's skirts were blowing, and several men had hands clapped on their heads to prevent the wind from stealing their hats. Being quite familiar with hordes coming at her, Rose saw right off that this was no angry mob, nor was it a throng of grateful admirers. These were respectable people. Reasonable people.
"They're on our side," Rose deduced, another wave of hope swelling to drown out the last of her worry. "They're gonna help us stand up to the Time Lords."
Jack's deep voice piped up behind her. "I don't mean to throw cold water on things, but they look like farmers. What can they do against an elite army?"
The Doctor didn't answer. He stood tall, his back straight, chin aloft, every inch the hero. Rose stood proudly at his side, her own spine straight too. She loved it when he emanated confidence like this.
As if by unspoken agreement, the crowd came to an abrupt halt once they were about ten feet away. The dual suns shone harsh and hot, and nobody said anything. It felt like a scene from an old western, a standoff in the desert. Rose and the Doctor were being sized up.
Rose had just about made up her mind that she would make the first move when a little girl's voice called out, "Is your wife really a human?"
Indignant looks were turned on the bold young questioner, which helped Rose locate her, and then she almost laughed. A harried mother had taken the girl by the elbow, leaning down to quietly upbraid her. She was a youngster of about ten, with windblown dark hair and an unrepentant expression. She could totally be an older Suzy.
A smile rose to her lips, and it was easy to answer the girl. "Yes, I am," she called back.
Rose! The Doctor turned to her, dismayed.
It's fine, Doctor. This is what they came to find out. Look at them now, they've relaxed, see?
It was true. Everything about the native Gallifreyans seemed to have softened. She wouldn't call them excited, exactly, they were too reserved for that. Anticipatory, perhaps. More importantly, there wasn't a trace of disgust or judgement to be seen.
On seeing it the Doctor exhaled a laugh, his tall body almost slumping in relief. "Blimey, Rose, how'd you make this happen?"
"I didn't do anything," said Rose, nudging him. "I don't even get it, really."
"I think they've realised I'm as rebellious as they're always heard. But it's not in a bad way."
Rose caught his meaning. "You're the man who saved them from the Time War," she murmured. "And I'm proof that you're not prejudiced."
Acknowledging this with a slight nod, the Doctor stepped forward suddenly and called out, "Well, c'mon, then! You've brought food, I see, so let's have it!"
Though Rose hadn't noticed, a few men and women did indeed carry cloth-wrapped packages. Everything quickly became a whirl of activity: the Doctor and Jack hurrying to move the big table outdoors, a few townspeople helping them set it in the shadowed, sheltered east side of the barn. Food was set out, simple fare consisting of soup and bread, but plenty of it. Before too long everyone was milling about with bowls in their hands, chatting a bit while keeping an eye on the Doctor, like they were wondering what he might do next.
Rose and Donna and Jack had been practically forced to take three of the few chairs, and were soon surrounded by curious children. This delighted Rose, even though she could hardly get them to give anything beyond two or three word answers to her questions.
They're not shy, it's a cultural thing, said the Doctor's voice in her head. Rose glanced over and saw him standing a short distance away, grouped with a few townspeople. A smile played at the corner of his mouth and, although he kept his eyes on the older man speaking to him, listening and nodding along, she could tell she had a good bit of his attention.
You're so nosy, she told him, snickering to herself.
Perhaps, but you've got to admit I'm an excellent multitasker.
I'll give ya that one.
It's great that you're talking to those kids, Rose, don't give up. They're just trying to show you respect. Hierarchy is strictly observed on Gallifrey. You may be inferior to them biologically–
Oi!
But you're the wife of a Time Lord, which puts you above them in rank.
That's stupid.
I know.
Let's help them all run away.
She saw and heard him laugh aloud, sloshing his soup a little and startling the other people he'd been talking to. Rose laughed too, delighted to see him relax a bit. She wasn't stupid– Rassilon's armies were still coming, these people couldn't stop them. But a little approval and support was certainly encouraging.
"I'm trying to decide if that's rude," said Donna, pointing her piece of bread at Rose.
"What?"
"You and him, using telepathy in front of people all the time. It's sort of like speaking a foreign language, isn't it? Others can't understand or participate in the conversation."
"It's fun when you're on the other side of it," Jack told Donna, giving her a teasing smile.
"How would you know?"
"I'm mildly telepathic."
"So am I, sometimes," Donna shot back. "I know what it's like. I know you can't hear their secret little conversations either, not unless they let you."
"And we didn't," stated Rose, taking a polite sip of her soup.
"That doesn't make it better, Blondie. It just means you're being rude to both of us. All of us," Donna tacked on, indicating the children circled around them.
Rose let her eyes sparkle at Donna. "If we'd spoken aloud, it would've been far ruder."
"Nice!" chortled Jack.
Donna was grimacing. "No, not nice. Gross."
Clapping loudly, the Doctor drew everyone's attention. "I have a question," he announced, projecting his voice so that it carried. "Why are you lot so pleased to see me?"
A stronger breeze came through, spattering sand lightly against the barn, but no one answered him. Eyebrows raised, the Doctor scanned the crowd impatiently, and finally a dark-haired, rail-thin woman with a toddler on her hip spoke up. "You saved us," she said matter-of-factly. "You brought peace to Gallifrey. Had this planet not been removed from the Time War, no one but the Time Lords would have survived."
The man beside her added, "You saved our children."
Only the warmth of the Doctor's eyes, a tick in his jaw, betrayed the surge of emotion Rose felt him fighting. "All right," he said, after a single hard swallow. "But aren't you afraid I might bring the Hybrid?"
"There are already monsters on this planet," said the grey-bearded man the Doctor had been speaking to earlier.
"They're running it," added Marin darkly.
The Doctor nodded. Then he turned a slow circle, taking in the whole of the crowd. "One last question. Where are all of your young people?"
Struck, Rose rapidly took in the townspeople; noticed Jack and Donna doing the same. The Doctor was right. Aside from the children, there was no one who appeared to be less than middle-aged.
Donna bent toward Rose's ear. "I thought a person's age had nothing to do with how their body looks around here."
"These people aren't Time Lords," Rose whispered back, her gaze shifting between Donna and Jack, who had leaned in to listen. "They age in the usual way and can't regenerate."
Nobody had responded to the Doctor, but Rose suspected that it wasn't out of cultural reserve. No, his question had made the Gallifreyans nervous.
This fact had the Doctor's curiosity almost visibly skyrocketing. "What has Rassilon done with them?" he demanded, pinning Marin with an intense look. "I know you know. Tell me."
Marin held his gaze for a long moment, smoothing her hands down her skirt. "They've been conscripted," she said, and began to recite something, words that sounded well-worn and tired. "Gallifrey has been exiled to the far end of time. Storing up supplemental energy is imperative for our survival, as most stars in this system, including our suns, are nearing the end of their lifecycle."
"What a line of propaganda," was the Doctor's instant, scoffed judgement. "Conscripted into what?"
"Star harvesting."
His face scrunched. "Star harvesting? Even if Gallifrey's suns were going out, which I doubt, excess solar energy has always been collected and stored, the reserves were massive even when I still lived here, enough to power a completely sunless planet for millennia. You all know that, it's public knowledge. I reckon even your children know that." The Doctor flung his arms out, exasperated. "Rassilon has been feeding you a load of bollocks."
Some quiet gasps came from the townspeople at his language, but Rose also saw lots of hands fly up to faces, no doubt hiding smiles, and there were many vehement nods.
"So," the Doctor continued, his shoulders round, his hands clasping together, "what is he really doing?" When he was met with blank looks, he raised his brows. "Oh, c'mon, it's obvious. He's practically announced it."
Rose recalled the first part of the recited propaganda. "'Gallifrey is trapped at the end of time.' He's angry about that, yeah?"
"Yes. And, I would venture to guess, fully unaccepting of it."
"Poor thing." Rose shrugged. "But what can he do about it?"
"Not much, not with solar energy, anyway, no matter how much he's got. So why's he burning up those suns?" Strolling over to where Rose was sitting, he crouched down before the group of children. "Who can tell me what happens when a dying star reaches the point of collapse?"
Most of them glanced at each other shyly, watching to see which of their mates would be brave enough to raise a hand. One tiny girl with a mass of black curls gave the Doctor a smile, all pearly baby teeth.
He smiled back at her. "I reckon you know the answer, don't you, sweetheart?"
Brown eyes shining, she nodded. "It continues to compress and creates a black hole."
"That's right! And what sort of energy comes from black holes?"
Numerous faces lit up, and the Doctor gestured, encouraging the all young ones to call it out together.
"Artron!"
"Excellent!" He beamed at them, though in the time it took him to straighten back up to address the adults, his face had sobered again. "Artron energy is what powers a TARDIS," he explained, regarding the villagers with serious eyes. "And with enough artron, you could superpower a whole lot of TARDIS's, and move more than just people through time and space. You could transport a planet."
"Right, cos it's how you removed Gallifrey from the Time War," Rose mused. "So…is he trying to move it back or something, by reverse-engineering the process you used? He wants Gallifrey restored to its original space-time coordinates?"
"Worse, I'm afraid." The Doctor ploughed a hand through his hair. "I reckon Rassilon wants Gallifrey restored to its original coordinates so he can finish what he started in the Time War. The final sanction."
It was a terrible claim to make, but there were no responding gasps, no angry outbursts. The people stayed silent, their expressions dark. It was easy to see they'd long suspected this.
"What's the final sanction?" Jack asked the Doctor, and there was no twinkle at all in his blue eyes. He'd risen from his chair and, though he was clad in just his dark oxford with trousers and braces, he looked like a soldier. Like a force to be reckoned with.
"It's the destruction of everything but the Time Lords," replied the Doctor, giving his eyes a rub with thumb and forefinger. "They'll have no need of a planet, or anything else, really. Rassilon calls it ascension, becoming creatures of consciousness alone."
"Geez."
"Well, that's not gonna happen," stated Rose emphatically, popping to her feet. "So what've we got to do first, stop the star harvesting?"
A low murmur started up amongst the people. Rose almost wanted to call it a ripple of excitement. Had she said exactly what they wanted to hear?
"Oh, I reckon he'll stop that on his own, now that I'm here," said the Doctor, absently fingering his bow-tie. "Even with enough artron his plan's a long shot, and I'm certain he knows that. But…if he gets hold of my TARDIS, things will be, unfortunately, nice and simple for him." He shook his head. "It's free of the time-lock, you see. It can get out, it knows the way. All he'd need to do is establish a link with it, then follow in its wake. Gallifrey will be homeward bound."
Rose ran a hand down his arm, his coat sleeve rough beneath her palm. "But he can't just take the TARDIS, can he?" Even as she asked the question, she was certain the answer was no. The Doctor had been looking for a good enough reason to leave Gallifrey before he'd even arrived, and it didn't get any better than potential universal destruction. If he thought the risk was real, they'd already be legging it out of here.
"Not for anything more than a short jump. The symbiotic relationship between a TARDIS and her pilot prohibits the sort of thing he'll want to use her for. He'll try to force me to help him, though."
The Doctor spoke matter-of-factly, his eyes on the crowd as he answered her, and he radiated calm confidence. Mostly. His breathing was a bit fast. Suddenly suspicious, Rose turned inward, focusing on him, but to her surprise no negative emotions flowed through their link. He wasn't angry, or even afraid.
Well, that was good. Baffling, but good.
Rose mentally focused on him again, affectionately nudging into his lively bright psychic presence. No response, like he hadn't noticed. Normally his reaction to such a thing was instant, he'd give her a reciprocal nudge of even greater affection, or even a physical cuddle if she was within reach. They were literally standing side-by-side.
…hold on. Hold on.
Was he blocking her?
It wasn't indignation or heartache that followed the suspicion, but icy fear. Rose drew a quiet breath as her thoughts swirled.
Blocking one's bondmate was a big deal. Like every telepathic tool, it had its proper uses, but clear communication beforehand was vital to avoid causing deep hurt. Earlier, Rose had not even considered blocking the Doctor, though it had been a (literal) headache to keep her intense feelings quiet and unnoticeable.
Over the course of their marriage, the Doctor had rarely walled her out of his emotions. From time to time he'd have a bad day, when flashbacks from the War would plague him, and they'd found she could support him better if she wasn't deep in the muck of it with him. A couple of colossal negative spirals– his grief triggering her grief and worry, triggering guilt and even more grief in him– had taught them emotional privacy was, at times, for the best.
No doubt this was the thought motivating him now.
But, by quietly closing off their link, did he really think she'd go on blithely believing he was fine? The Doctor was her love, her lifemate, she knew him. There was no way he wasn't terrified right now, fixated on the one way Rassilon could force him to do something.
By threatening her.
She became somewhat aware Donna had come up to join them, as had Jack. Donna was speaking. But Rose's pulse roared so loudly she could barely catch her friend's words.
"...too dangerous? We should go?"
"Not yet," the Doctor replied coolly. "Your head still needs sorting, remember?" He had acquired a distinctive smirk that Rose knew well, though it was another thing she rarely saw these days. So apparently he wasn't just scared, but also pissed off to the point of cocky overconfidence. Wonderful.
"Yeah," said Donna, "but earlier you said that to help me, you'd need to conquer the planet."
"I was exaggerating. A bit."
From beyond the horizon came a low sound, more vibration than noise. Going still, the Doctor listened hard for a moment, and then his hands were on Rose, beginning to usher her toward the barn. "Aircraft. That'll be the cavalry," he announced grimly. "Jack, Donna, you two and Rose need to keep your heads down. Best if the Time Lords don't know there are humans here." He raised his voice to address the townspeople. "Back in a mo', everyone."
It was pleasantly cool inside the barn. Jack immediately headed for the loft's ladder with Donna on his heels.
Taking advantage of their friends' turned backs, the Doctor surprised Rose by snatching her close for a tight hug. Though she got nothing off him empathically, she felt his body buzzing with dark protectiveness, like a dog with its hair on end, snarling at a threat. Well, that pretty much summed up how she felt, too. What idiots they were, trying to fool each other.
Rose prayed she was doing a better job of it than he was.
For a moment he seemed to be searching for words, but all the Doctor ended up saying to her was a simple, "Stay here. Stay safe. Okay?"
Rose nodded gravely, hearing the weight of the request. "Are you gonna be okay?" she couldn't help asking.
She got a small, but genuine, smile in answer. "Oh, they won't kill me," the Doctor assured her. "There'd be a planet-wide uproar. And don't forget, I also have information they want, so that's another card in my pocket. They think I know something about the Hybrid."
Rose felt somewhat reassured. "What are you gonna do?"
His hand cupped her face, fingertips gently tracing the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw. "Oh, you know me," he said, urging her chin up. "I'll be all intimidating, try to take control."
"But how?" she breathed, as he pecked a kiss to each cheek, her forehead, her nose.
She felt him smile against her lips before he kissed her properly. "Trust me," he murmured, on pulling back. "It will be okay."
Rose hated that she couldn't be certain he meant it.
"It will be okay," Jack reiterated a few minutes later, which made her chuckle. He'd spoken about an inch away from her ear.
"Yeah, that's what the Doctor said too," she sighed, settling back against the bed pillows. As soon as she'd climbed into the loft, Donna and Jack had taken one look at her face and practically dragged her into the middle of the small bed, settling themselves on each side of her. It was a tight fit, their warm bodies book-ending her tightly.
Rose appreciated the comfort. The noise of approaching aircraft was thunderous now.
"It will," Jack said again, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "I mean, did you see him out there, sitting at the table with that stupid bowl of soup, surrounded by his little army of villagers? Talk about ballsy. I'm sure he has everything under control."
"He always does that," Rose replied, not sure if she was agreeing with Jack or arguing. "Acts like he owns the situation. Even when he doesn't."
"Yeah, he's always doing mad stuff like this– oops, sorry." Donna had accidentally elbowed Rose as she readjusted the pillow behind her back. "He's always okay in the end."
Rose drew a long breath, releasing it slowly. "Not always. Don't forget, he's died eleven times. Sure, he comes back from it, but that doesn't mean it's not traumatic. And ever since Suzy was born we've been on the slow path, mostly. I haven't had to think of him getting hurt, much less regenerating–" Her throat swelled, and Rose pressed her lips tight to fight an audible sob.
"It won't do the Time Lords any good to make him regenerate, Rosie." Jack cupped her shoulder to pull her against him for a sideways hug.
"The President of Gallifrey is unpredictable," she countered, resting her head against him and wiping her eyes, grateful for his solid strength. "He's one of the most powerful people in the universe, and one of the worst. And he hates the Doctor."
A glass of water on the nightstand vibrated, followed by the stand itself and the entire bed frame. Jack and Rose and Donna all sat up straight, holding onto each other as they listened to the dreaded aircraft descend just outside, its massive bulk blocking the light on that side of the barn. Jack was off the bed in an instant, dropping to his knees to spy out of one of the larger cracks in the wall.
There was a grinding, mechanical sound, and Rose saw Jack wince.
"Attention!" boomed a male voice, its suddenness causing Rose and Donna to jump. "Will all non-military personnel step away from the Doctor."
Nothing, just the hum of idling engines. Rose became hyper-aware of her thumping heart and tight lungs, under strain inside her body.
And then, apropos of nothing, Jack snickered.
"What's so funny?" Rose hissed, but he didn't hear her as the voice thundered again. "I repeat, all non-military personnel, please, step away from the Doctor. At least move the children away!"
Rolling onto her side, Rose watched Jack intently, dreading any change in his expression. But he continued to look pleased.
"Doctor! You will lay down any weapons on your person and accompany us to the Capitol!"
There was a long, pregnant pause. The air was electric, something was happening. Jack stared, unblinking. Rose felt Donna's soft, warm hand slip into hers and squeeze.
The Time Lord officer spoke again, but in confusion. "Doctor?"
Jack clapped a hand over his mouth, shooting a brief but intense look at Rose. His eyes were dancing.
Rose covered her own mouth.
"Doctor? Come back. You will come back immediately."
Someone began to clap, a startling, echoing sound that brought down an avalanche of applause that blanketed the commander's next words. "That is an order and this is a military vehicle."
The applause did not stop. Jack and Donna joined in with exuberance, flat-palmed claps that were carefully silent. Rose, for her part, barely dared to breathe until at last, engines flared and roared. Sunlight began to filter back into the west side of the barn as the aircraft lifted.
Rose dropped limply against the pillows.
"They're leaving," Jack informed her and Donna unnecessarily, his smile wide. "The Doctor drew a line in the sand– literally, a line in the sand, with his heel!– and those lowlifes didn't dare cross it. It was awesome!"
The door sounded its wooden rattle and Rose jolted upright, scrambling off the bed in time to see the Doctor stroll in, Marin close behind him. He glanced up at her, and although his eyes were apologetic, his whole body was rigid with anger.
Rose tensed. Wasn't he feeling even a bit victorious?
"They're gone?" she called out, offering what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
His answer sounded tired. "They'll be back."
Then, surprising her again, the Doctor came toward Rose with purpose, his eyes on hers, like he meant to reconnect a bit instead of distancing further. Her heart thumped. She was relieved to see him seeking her out, seeking some comfort. It meant she was right about why he'd blocked her telepathically- it was merely to prevent them dragging each other into a negative emotional spiral.
But before the Doctor reached the ladder, loud knocking echoed through the space. Stiffening, he frantically gestured for Rose to hide herself, and she ducked behind the hay bales Jack had stacked along the loft's edge.
She heard the Doctor go out, then return mere seconds later, the door slamming in his wake. She didn't need telepathy to know he'd now be on high alert, and wouldn't try coming to her again. Rose didn't move, hating that they hadn't had a single minute to reconnect. She was dying to hug him, to hear about what he was thinking, planning. More than anything, she longed to hear him tell her he believed his plan was working.
She startled as someone touched her arm.
"Wow, girl, you are wound tight," said Jack, from where he'd crouched beside her.
"Thanks.".
"C'mon, let's sit on the bed and try to relax. Nothing is happening right now."
"Right, but they could come back any minute. The Time Lords cannot find out about me."
Jack gave her an exasperated look. "Rose, there's no way in hell the Doc's letting them in here." He took hold of her elbow, urging her up. "C'mon, I'm desperately trying to win points with your husband, and there's no better way for me to do that than by taking care of you."
That got a real, if faint, smile out of her. "Glad your motives are so selfless."
"Yes, and his idea of taking care of you is by handing you over to me," Donna chimed in, patting the space on the mattress beside her as she gave Rose a warm, chummy smile. "I mean, I'll do a better job of it, no doubt. Especially since I'm the one with a smartphone and a Netflix subscription."
"Like there's wi-fi in this barn," scoffed Jack.
"She's on the TARDIS' network," Rose told him, although she thought Donna's offer was a bit bonkers. It wasn't as if they were merely passing the time in some thick-walled cellar, untouchably safe. She stole a look down from the loft. The Doctor had seated himself on what looked like a large tractor tire and was bent forward over his lap, his chin propped against steepled palms. Marin bustled around, hands fluttering nervously. Neither one looked at all happy.
"You pick," she told Donna, after settling beside her and refusing the proffered phone. "But it's gotta be something mindless."
"Ah, my specialty." Donna began to swipe through tv shows, while Rose watched Jack rearrange some stacked bales of straw, undoubtedly making a better spy-hole for himself.
Knock knock knock knock knock.
Rose didn't jolt as much as before. Numb to the stress, probably. Or maybe it was because, this time, the knocking sounded far more respectful.
"The Doctor left the door open," Jack stage-whispered as he watched the encounter through a hay-bale spy-hole. "I can see six Time Lords out there, all looking like they've got rods up their rear ends. You wouldn't believe the ridiculous collars on those guys–" He sucked a giddy breath. "Rose, oh my god, they just bowed to him."
BANG! went the door, slamming so violently the whole barn seemed to shake.
Jack popped to his feet. "That was amazing!" he called down to the Doctor, his tone full of admiration.
"Oi, don't encourage him," chided Donna. The bed shook as she got off it and went to the top of the ladder to give her own two cents. "Doctor, do you really expect those people will help us if you alienate them all?"
No response. Donna threw her hands up, stomping back to the bed.
"Those Time Lords aren't the ones who'd help us anyway, Donna," said Rose, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes.
"Yeah, well, it still seems risky," Donna muttered.
Ha, understatement. Every interaction the Doctor had with Rassilon's army was like another spin of a roulette wheel. So far all his gambles had paid off, he'd piled up win after win like a tower of cards. But the trick was knowing when to stop, when to walk away.
That didn't mean she thought they ought to leave Gallifrey. She believed in the Doctor. He knew how to win big. But his success today hadn't come from having Rose hang on his arm like a good luck charm. Quite the opposite. Had she not kept her distance, he'd have lost on the first roll.
Because the game… it was all about him keeping the Time Lords' respect.
Rose sat up straight. It was true. Even when the soldiers had approached him with aggression, beneath it all, there was respect. Not one of them had put a toe past the Doctor's line in the sand.
Perhaps they'd approach with aggression again, maybe they'd break down the barn door, invade. It wouldn't be anything but a bluff. As long as he manifested self-respect, their respect would remain.
So long as they didn't discover he'd bonded himself to a woman of vastly inferior species.
The Doctor wasn't the one who needed to know when to walk away. She was.
The realisation didn't wallop Rose like an iron skillet. Her gut had warned her of this hours ago, and she'd ignored it. Made excuses. Feigned confidence. Had she been honest with the Doctor about the doubts she was having, she'd be in the TARDIS right now. Where she belonged.
"Doctor." Marin's breathless voice carried over. "The President has arrived."
No, not now. Rose needed to tell him the truth, to ask for help, and it was too late. The door creaked open, banged shut. The Doctor had gone out.
"He'll be fine, Rose," murmured Donna gently, obviously noticing how pale and silent she was. But Donna did not sound at all certain.
The Doctor's voice floated in through the thin walls. "Get off my planet."
Facing down the President, he'd just gone all in. The stakes could not be higher. All at once, sitting here, so exposed, seemed phenomenally risky. Crawling off the bed, Rose tiptoe-ran to the far side of the loft, cramming her body into a narrow space behind some stacked hay-bales. Hay poked at her face, scratched her bare arms.
"Rose?" Donna had followed her.
Rose waved her away. "I'm alright."
Donna coughed a silent laugh, crouching down, probably so she could whisper-boss Rose more effectively. "Yeah, pull the other one. You're freaking out. And here I had you pegged as the level-headed one on missions."
"We hardly have missions, remember? Not since having the girls."
For a moment, Donna was quiet. But she also did not move. "When you do have missions," she asked at last, "you always go along?"
"Yep," replied Rose curtly. Donna already knew this, so why was she asking?
"Even if it might compromise him?"
Compromise. Hearing her own biggest worry from someone else's mouth, so straightforward, so true, it was like a knife through her heart. Rose's body jerked, tears filling her eyes.
"It has never, ever been a problem," she managed to say. "It's usually a given that we're much stronger as a team. But I knew this trip would be different. He…" She drew a shuddering breath. "He asked me to stay home. He almost demanded it. And now…well, I should've listened to him."
Donna stroked her arm. "Hey, it's alright. Take a deep breath, sweetie. Try to calm down a bit, yeah? I wasn't saying you shouldn't be here. It's just, you know the Doctor's so attuned to you…I mean, if he feels you freaking out, isn't it gonna distract him?"
"Donna. I'm telling you I shouldn't be here. The bloody President is outside. If I somehow get discovered, the Time Lords will use me to control the Doctor."
"Hey, shh." Donna's gentle stroke of Rose's arm became a tight squeeze. "You're panicking."
"It doesn't matter, he can't feel it." Rose touched her temple. "He's blocked me."
"Blocked?" The word came out like a shocked gasp, and Rose could tell Donna had misunderstood the term.
"I didn't mean…it's not like blocking someone on Facebook, Donna. It's a telepathic term. Sometimes one of us might need privacy, in here," she tapped her temple again, "when we're struggling emotionally. Like, for smaller things you want to keep to yourself you can just suppress the feeling, shut a door, so to speak, which muffles things. Blocking is more drastic. It's like…" Rose thought, trying to find a term to properly describe it. "It's like leaving."
Donna regarded Rose silently, her hazel eyes full of understanding. "Like driving off in your car to cry and scream privately, instead of just closing the bedroom door?"
Rose nodded. The illustration was remarkably apt.
"And did Spaceman bother to warn you before he did that?"
"Um." Her cheeks warmed. How had Donna managed to guess at proper telepathic courtesies?
"Well, there's your problem," Donna decreed, tucking back a lock of ginger hair. "You're both all worked up because you aren't communicating–"
A fierce blast of energy exploded against the barn, the force of it nearly taking them off their feet. Rose and Donna both let out a shriek, but the sound was drowned out by a thunderstorm of rapid-fire blasts that shook the world like an earthquake.
The ear-ringing, deathly silence that followed was even worse. The deja vu. Rose had lived lifetimes in moments like these, when time was measured in pounding heartbeats, moments of horrible, endless not knowing.
A querulous old-man voice shattered the silence like glass. "You missed." It rang out just as Rose flailed for the Doctor's aura, the vein of him embedded in her mind, to find it pulsing with life. She slumped forward in relief, forehead bumping a hay-bale.
"All of you!" The old man –Rassilon– continued to rage. "Every single one of you! How is that possible? What is it? Is the firing squad afraid of the unarmed man?"
Rose closed her eyes, suddenly full of love for the Time Lord army. No one had hurt her Doctor. He was fine. He was fine.
Why had Rassilon had him fired upon in the first place? Was it an attempt to punish him with forcible regeneration? Or was the man insane enough to actually want the Doctor dead, caring nothing for the valuable information or help he could provide?
Strong hands were lifting her from her hidey-hole. Rose found herself caught in Jack's arms, though she had no idea where he'd come from. "Don't worry, darlin', the Doctor's doing great," he murmured into her ear.
Rose wondered what she must have looked like, if comforting her was suddenly more important to Jack than what was happening outside. "I know that was really scary," he went on as she clung to him like a child, her eyes closing as she buried her face in his shirt. "But he held his ground, and some soldiers just tossed their weapons to go stand with him. Apparently, a bunch of them served with him in the Time War. Man. If I still had any doubts that he was actually the Doctor, they'd be dead now."
Struck by what he'd said, Rose lifted her face to his, brightening. "Are they in a standoff right now?"
"Yeah, might last a bit. They're arguing."
Hope swelled her chest. Maybe there was still time. Maybe things could still be salvaged. "All right," she said, extricating herself from Jack's embrace. "If I go now I won't be noticed."
"Go where?" asked Jack and Donna in unison.
"Back to the TARDIS."
"What?!" Jack only just managed to keep his voice down.
"Don't, Jack. Donna can explain it all, I don't have time." Grabbing her denim jacket from a bedpost, she thrust her arms through the sleeves. "All you need to know right now is that if I go back to the TARDIS, everything will turn out fine. I'm the reason there's risk."
"That's dumb," he stated flatly, arms crossing over his broad chest. "You're the reason he had all those townspeople supporting him."
Rose did not scoff, though she wanted to. "He's a war hero, that's why he's got support. I don't want to chance him losing the respect of all those Time Lord soldiers if they find out he's married to a human. That sort of thing's viewed a bit differently in the Capitol."
"Alright," sighed Jack, after some prolonged eye contact. "But you're not going to the TARDIS alone."
"Jack, you can't–"
"I'm not going," he interrupted. "I am well aware that I'd be shooting off flares of 'wrongness' in the brain of any Time Lord that spotted me. I'll get Marin to take you."
"Good luck," Donna told her, snatching her into a quick hug. It was easy to see Donna thought Rose was making the right decision. That was encouraging.
"Thanks." Smiling, Rose hurried to follow Jack down the ladder.
"There was a saying, sir, in the Time War," said Gastron courageously, though Rassilon still had hold of his neck.
"A saying?"
"The first thing you will notice about the Doctor of War is he's unarmed. For many, it's also the last."
Escaping Rassilon's grasp, Gastron stepped forward, dropped his weapon, and then crossed the line, coming to join the Doctor. "I was at Skull Moon, sir," he informed the Lord President, squaring his shoulders.
Rassilon stared after him, astonished. He looked like a feeble old man.
It was one of the most beautiful sights the Doctor had ever seen. It was almost automatic, him projecting the image to Rose, but then he remembered. He couldn't reopen their link yet. He still held out hope that she hadn't noticed he'd closed it. Now was not the time to flood her with all his big feelings.
Not until he'd won.
It wasn't a long walk to the TARDIS, but it felt like it. Fighting the wind, trudging up and down dunes, sand slipping beneath Rose's trainers and blowing into her face. Neither she nor Marin did much talking.
When they crested a swell in the landscape and finally spotted the blue Police Box, Rose's heart leapt, but not with happiness. Flanking the time-ship were two Time Lord soldiers in maroon military kit, each of them cradling a large blaster. A small airship was parked off to the side.
Gasping, Marin grabbed Rose's wrist and tugged, as if to pull her to the ground, out of sight.
Too late.
"You there!" shouted the larger of the two, the first to point his gun at them. "Come forward! Slowly!"
Tensing on her toes, Rose thought fast. Could they run? The landscape was a complex one, tricky to navigate. If they got a head start–
Marin's grip on her wrist tightened. "Don't," she said, as if she'd read Rose's mind. "We cannot arouse their suspicion. It is the only way."
"But they'll be able to tell I'm human," protested Rose. Oh, god, she should never have left the barn.
"Perhaps not. Not all Time Lords are clever."
Though it still felt to Rose like a colossal mistake, they shuffled forward meekly, heads down. Just two lowly Gallifreyans, respectful of their superiors. It did make the approach easier, not having to stare down the barrels of two guns.
"Stop there," they were commanded, after about a dozen steps. Rose glanced up at the soldiers, and her stomach twisted. The uniforms they wore were plainer, less armoured, than those of the other soldiers she'd seen. On this planet, she knew such details said a lot. The pair were as young as they looked, and low-ranking. No chance they were veterans of the Time War.
Definitely on Rassilon's side, then.
When Marin bowed, Rose followed her example. "We live in the nearby village," the older woman said. "Just out for a midday walk. We are sorry to disturb you."
No answer. The guns stayed aloft, glinting in the sunlight.
One soldier, a piggish-looking man with a fleshy face, sniffed the air. "You might be from the village," he said to Marin. His nose wrinkled as his gaze shifted to Rose. "But she's not. Those clothes–"
"Are from the Citadel," Marin finished smoothly. "She is visiting. My granddaughter."
The soldier sniffed again, his nose as red and bulgy as the rest of him. "No. She is not your granddaughter." He gave Rose a strange look of triumphant disgust. "She's human."
The other soldier, a tall, wiry woman with dull eyes, looked unconvinced. "No way, Aro. How could she be?"
Rose drew a steadying breath. Though her Torchwood days were long over, in crisis situations like this, her training was still quick to reassert itself. "You're right, sir, I'm not. It's like my grandmother says, I'm from the Citadel–"
"Do not speak, human!" Nostrils flaring, Hog-face turned his look of disgust on his fellow soldier. "Reve, did you forget what we have been standing guard over?"
Reve glanced back at the TARDIS, like she did indeed need to remind herself. "What, you think she's one of the Doctor's?"
Hog-face flung his arms out. "Of course she is!"
Rose cringed, afraid that, in his frustration, he might accidentally fire his gun. But the ugly soldier gathered himself. "The Doctor has a penchant for making the vermin his travel companions. The Lord President will be pleased with us for capturing her. Very pleased, indeed."
Finally catching on, Reve showed her crooked teeth in a big smile.
Gesturing with his weapon, the nasty one indicated that Rose should come to him.
Rose pretended not to notice. "I'm from the Citadel," she insisted.
"Put your hands out. Palms up."
"Do it," Marin instructed in a fierce whisper. But Rose hesitated, not refusing, yet not complying either. No doubt he was going to try to restrain her, and she wasn't having that.
"Hands out!" His eyes were wild, and he looked like he was about to charge her.
"Please!" Rose put her hands in the air, a plea of innocence, but not surrender.
"Aro, wait," his partner called out. "I don't think she's lying."
A furious sigh. "Yes, she is."
"No, look. She is joined in a psychic bond."
It took all Rose had in her to not react. This was it, then. The pivotal moment. Either things were about to swing her way, or it all would devolve to an orbiting-a-black-hole level of bad.
Startled, Hog-face took Rose in with new interest, his eyes going slightly unfocused. "Indeed."
"See, she can't be human. Humans aren't telepathic."
Hog-face's gaze sharpened. "You're human," he ground out, pink splotches appearing on his cheeks as he took slow, menacing steps toward her. "And you carry a bond. Are you bonded to a Time Lord?" He was in her face now, almost screaming. "To the Doctor?!"
Fear fled entirely. "Your breath smells horrible," she informed him.
The ground was solid enough here. Rose flung her weight into a spin, landing a well-placed kick to the soldier's gun which should have sent it flying. But, ironically, though she knew more about Time Lords than any human living, she forgot to account for one basic detail.
Superior biology.
Hog-face stumbled but kept hold of his weapon, swinging it back toward Rose as he tried to regain his footing.
Energy jolted the air, a laser-sharp flash of red and heat. Rose cried out as the blast struck her, flinging her bodily onto the sand. Heaving for air, she went limp, eyes closing. Her whole right arm was fiery agony.
Someone knelt beside her, put a gentle hand on her face. Marin.
"M'alright," Rose mumbled, forcing open her eyes.
Gingerly touching Rose's right elbow, Marin made a sound of disagreement. "It's a bad burn."
Rose moaned as she lifted her head slightly, glancing down the line of her shoulder to her bicep. Half her jacket sleeve was missing, burnt away. The scent of scorched denim, and her own flesh, nauseated her.
Ignoring it, as well as the throbbing, white-hot pain, Rose let Marin help her into a sitting position. Shadows fell over them as the soldiers' black boots approached.
"Go home, woman," Hog-face told Marin. "She'll get care in the Citadel. In the prisons. Where she belongs."
"But, sir–"
"Go home!" He aimed his weapon at Marin and she backed away, hands raised placatingly. Tossing his gun to Reve, he abruptly bent to grab Rose by her good arm. She yelped as he hauled her to her feet, gave her a little shove to indicate she should walk toward the airship.
There was nothing to do but obey. Yet Rose knew she had a bigger problem: the pain in her arm had already begun to subside.
So. It was starting. Rose nearly laughed. If Hog-face despised her for daring to be bonded to a Time Lord, he was really gonna hate this other little biological quirk of hers.
Doctor? Turning inward, Rose called to him, hoping beyond hope that he'd reopened their link. His psychic presence in her mind was as vivid as ever, all energy and strength. Doctor?
Nothing. Not an eyelash's flicker of a response. The Doctor was not only inattentive, he was unavailable. Much like when he was asleep, yet not.
Something cracked in Rose, and she psychically screamed his name with all her might. Doctor!
Doctor!
Doctor!
It felt like shouting into the wind. Like thick glass separated them. Her husband could not hear her, and she wanted to sob in despair.
"Halt," commanded Hog-face's voice. Rose realised they'd reached the sleek military plane. After opening a compartment on one side, he removed a small box that held two transparent bracelets that glittered in the sunlight. "First time using these," he commented to the female soldier as he slid them onto Rose's wrists.
Instantly, the bands fitted themselves tight to the skin. Clear and delicate, they did nothing to restrain her. What might their purpose be?
As she was being strapped into a jump-seat, Rose found out. Her vision went hazy, and then, one by one, heavy metal doors began to slam down like guillotines in her mind, each one blocking out precious warmth and light. Panic constricted Rose's lungs as she helplessly watched her link with DJ wink out, and a moment later, her link with Suzy.
"No!" It was more cry than word, ripping from her throat as the last door fell with a tremendous crash, reverberating almost physically through her skull. "Doctor!"
He was gone. For the first time in years, Rose was truly alone, the darkness in her mind like that of the grave. Burying her face in her hands, she wept.
The Doctor had to hand it to Rassilon. The old beggar never gave up. Always had one last card to play.
"What?" The President's frail-looking body fairly sparked with righteous indignation as the last man on his side, the General, tossed his weapon as he went to join all the other soldiers standing with the Doctor. "I am Rassilon the Redeemer! Rassilon, the resurrected! Gallifrey is mine!"
Rassilon, the ridiculous, the Doctor wanted to say, but didn't. No use tempting fate. Rassilon's intense conviction made him a bit nervous, even though the old man stood alone on his side of the line, the weaponry of six airships aimed at his back.
Their standoff should be over, but somehow he knew it wasn't. Not yet.
Danger lurked in the narrowing of Rassilon's eyes. The Doctor tensed, watching his opponent slowly lift his right fist in its metal glove. Like he was taking careful aim with a weapon.
The Doctor instantly comprehended. It was a weapon. An electrified gauntlet. A direct hit would undoubtedly be powerful enough to cause regeneration.
Well. As Rose would say, that wasn't gonna happen.
Eyes darting around, the Doctor thought fast. One little hand signal from him, and the airships would fire on Rassilon. But, he didn't want to do that, so what else–
Vrrrr. Vrrrr. Vrrrr.
Someone's communicator was buzzing.
It felt like the answer to a prayer when he realised it was Rassilon's.
"Aren't you going to get that?" the Doctor called out, cloaking his relief in feigned annoyance.
Five seconds ticked by. Five more buzzes. The President held the Doctor's gaze, his gauntlet still pointed his way.
The comm buzzed a sixth time. Amazingly, Rassilon lifted his free hand to his face, never taking his eyes from the Doctor. "Yes?" he said impatiently.
The holographic face of a soldier appeared. Although the image was tiny, the words he spoke cut the air. They blasted through the Doctor's body like bullets.
"I have the Doctor's bond-mate in custody, Lord President. I captured her near his TARDIS. And sir…she is human."
Time gelatinised.
Lined up beside him, the soldiers were like statues, eyes frozen mid-blink, hair gone stiff in suddenly still air. Dimly, the Doctor realised his body had gone into survival mode, instinctively utilising an old Time Lord cheat-skill in order to literally buy him some time.
Within the stolen moment of crystallised peace, the Doctor was all chaos. He could not unlock his link to Rose fast enough, calling out for her with a frantic telepathic shout.
Silence echoed. His head was like a home abandoned. Though the psychic presence of his children was bright, Rose was just…gone. Her absence wasn't hollow, nor empty nor echoing, it was raw. It was heat and crimson and pain and shock, like a bloody stump where a limb ought to be.
Like she was dead.
Not dead, he chastised himself fiercely. 'In custody.' The Doctor sucked a breath, suddenly sure of what had happened. Psychic isolator cuffs. They'd bound his wife with the things in order to sever their marital mind link. Illegally.
Great, howling rage brewed inside him like a hurricane, and his gaze laser-locked on the pitiful, frozen form of Rassilon. One tiny little finger twitch, that's all it would take to signal those ships. Deadly blasts would be fired at anyone who dared re-cross that line in the sand.
Chest heaving, the Doctor readied himself. Time was about to go liquid again, and he knew his pedestal had been thoroughly toppled. These Time Lords would turn on him like mad dogs, simply because he'd dared to take a human wife.
Tick, tick, tick. He was a live grenade. If anything could yank his pin, this would be it.
They had Rose.
That thought froze the Doctor. They had Rose, and it was his fault. He'd blocked her out with no explanation, of course she'd noticed, and she'd believed it meant he didn't want her here. How many times had he explicitly told her so? Returning to the TARDIS was what she thought he wanted her to do– she'd been trying to read his mind and, for once, failing utterly.
His fuse burnt out. Exploding was out of the question. Rose needed him. He loved her far too much to go mad right now.
For her, he had to be brilliant.
Wind rustled his fringe, Time chugging back to life. The Doctor locked his eyes on Rassilon. He did not lash out like a wounded animal, he did not even blink. His fear and his pain were buried far out of sight.
All around him the soldiers were fidgeting. Uneasy with what they had just learnt.
"Take a look at your hero!" said Rassilon snidely. "How righteous can he be? How clever? How wise? He's bonded himself to a mind-blind human!"
Feet shuffled, mouths whispered. The Doctor slowly filled his lungs, nearly vibrating in his efforts not to react.
Rassilon smirked, pleased. "Surrender now, Doctor. If you want to see your wife again, you will accompany me to the Capitol."
"Oh, yes," the Doctor replied, as a real and deadly calm came over him. "We agree on that point. You will take me to my wife immediately, or I'll give you no information about the Hybrid."
"You do not have the upper hand here, Doctor," boomed Rassilon. "You will tell us everything you know, or we will execute the little human you've cultivated such an unnatural fondness for!"
The Doctor stood his ground, meeting disdain with disdain. He knew exactly what he needed to say next, to save her, but the words were like bile in his throat. "Do you actually believe I would bond myself to an ordinary little human?"
Everyone stilled, as if Time had re-frozen. The Doctor let his question percolate, then went on, voice silky with danger. "You've brought her into your Citadel, and you have no idea who she is. What she is. Bit reckless of you, I'd say."
Rassilon lifted his gauntlet again. "Enough with your word games!"
"Ring your soldier back. Tell him to look at her timeline."
"I said, I've had enough of your word–"
"I said," the Doctor bellowed, flinging his arms out, "tell him to check her timeline! She and I have a soul-bond. Do you really think that I, a Time Lord of Gallifrey, would condemn myself to a human woman's puny lifespan?!"
Struck, Rassilon stared at him, though there was a stubbornness in the set of his jaw that worried the Doctor.
Vrrr. Vrrr.
This time the Lord President did not delay answering his wrist-comm. "Speak."
"There's something wrong about her," said the tinny holo-vid. "The human."
"What do you mean, wrong?" barked Rassilon. The Doctor's hearts lodged in his throat.
"A blaster went off, sir, it struck her in the arm. The burn was quite nasty, but, well… it healed within minutes."
The Doctor nearly pitched forward. His precious girl, enduring the agony of a blaster burn…agony he should have felt as if the wound was to his own body. She'd had to cope with it, alone.
Through the haze of shock, he noticed Rassilon eyeing him like a predatory bird. The Doctor carefully kept his composure, did not flinch nor even swallow, despite the horrible knot in his throat.
Rassilon did not flinch either. Lifting his wrist, he spoke into the comm reluctantly. "Look at her timeline."
A gust of wind whirled through, whipping up sand and drowning out the soldier's words, but the fear in Rassilon's expression told exactly what the intel had been. "What is she?" he demanded of the Doctor.
Chin dipping, the Doctor gazed at the man from deep-set eyes. Leading Rassilon to voice his own conclusion, thereby ensuring he'd believe it.
"The Hybrid."
The Doctor took care not to blink. "Take me to her now if you want to live."
Sorry not sorry for the massive cliffhanger :) If you've read my work before you should expect this lol
