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writingithink · 4 years ago

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Improbable Multiversal Transcending Temporal Spacetime Event Pairing: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Rated: T Word Count: 7,101 Summary: The best way to show someone you care is to blow up their job ... right? Notes: I'm back! And it's not a Tangled Timelines update (sorry!) But it is something? I've had this in my WIPs for awHILE now, and when I was cleaning my studio the other night I found a planning page for it in a random tote bag and was like ... oh yeah. And the ending just came to me and I love it when that happens. Hopefully there will be another chapter up for Tangled Timelines soon, though!

As always, infinite thanks to my wonderful beta, @hey-there-juliet who is fine with me randomly sending her fics at all hours and with no warning XP

All mistakes are mine, as always.

<<READ IT ON AO3>>

If the other him in the other universe had taken the time to imagine their human life together in a parallel universe, the Doctor doubted he would have pictured this. His imagination, when it came to Rose Tyler, was always quite whimsical. Happiness had made him impractical, really. Because despite all of the drawbacks, all of the reasons he currently loathed himself, the Doctor knew every single reason why the other truly felt like this was the best possible option.

But maybe it wasn’t.

Sometimes, despite it not occurring too often, he was wrong.

They had spent five and a half hours on the beach at Bad Wolf Bay.

(I create myself.)

She had been so upset; said that after everything they’d went through, everything she did to get back, the other him owed her a proper goodbye. She had stopped speaking to him when he told her that, actually, he would never give her a proper goodbye.

And she didn’t let him explain why. Now that he finally could.

Now it had been 57 days since she’d last spoken to him. Since he’d gotten more than a brief glimpse of her with his own eyes. That he’d spent piecing together a picture of what her life had been like here, without him. Such a short time, really, now that it was over (almost over), but yet also some of the worst moments of his entire existence.

It seemed fair that the multiverse would demand just that extra sequence of pain, considering everything he could potentially get in return. What another version of himself could only hope for, bitterly gambling eternities, following their timeline through all of it’s complicated swirls and turns, names weaving around each other, stamping themselves on the structure of creation.

Forever isn’t something that ends.

(How long are you going to stay with me?)

Quite the opposite, actually. And he knew, eventually, she would remember that. Knew it, but didn’t feel it.

The Doctor finally understood what all of the human writers meant about falling in love. Not just the terrifying sensation of the unstoppable freefall, but also the immense pain of crashing into the immovable object at the end of the journey.

They had sat on opposite ends of a Zeppelin. He had gone back to the Tyler Manor with Jackie, and Rose had gone back to her flat. Hoping to see her, talk to her, he had immediately joined Torchwood (once they agreed to his very detailed, highly specific, entirely ironclad contract). Their paths rarely crossed, and when they did it was just tiny, insubstantial moments.

A flash of her at the far end of a hall. Her name in a report (a lot of reports). Snatches of her voice, there one moment and gone the next.

It all made everything hurt so much more, somehow, having her so close but yet further than he could have possibly imagined.

But yet …

His imagination, when it came to Rose Tyler, was still quite whimsical. So when he tried to think of the bigger picture, waxing poetic, alone on his office couch, the Doctor tried to look at the last few years as the impact, and this as the aftershock. Still, philosophical jaunts weren’t exactly a solution to his problem. A temporary solution was moving his office even further away, so that’s what he did.

Plus, he found it kind of fitting, commandeering the inside of Big Ben. UNIT may have it in the prime universe, but in this universe he had the fancy landmark office. Well, office-slash-home (without Rose Tyler, a proper house with doors and things was absolutely unthinkable). Not that it was just about having a private laugh. The gears soothed him, the sound of ticking helped the gnawing emptiness that had filled his mind ever since the TARDIS dematerialized without him in it. The Doctor had thought it was kind of fitting - the closest he could possibly be right now to time.

Not that he wasn’t spending every possible spare moment working on the baby TARDIS, just a tiny piece of coral still, currently sitting in the extended electro-percussive environment chamber. He wondered if, in three years (his best-possible projected timetable), when the new TARDIS would be ready for flight, she would still not be speaking to him.

Incidentally, the emergence of that thought and the start of his supposed ‘self-isolation’ coincided to an alarming degree for how coincidental the two really were. The fact of the matter was, he was busy. Tons of experiments to run, alien equipment to identify, classify (and more often than not remove from Torchwood entirely), a baby TARDIS to tend to, and a backlog of Rose’s mission reports to hack into made spending slightly over three weeks in his tower easy.

The problem was the fact that during that time the Doctor avoided sleeping, barely remembered to eat, and existed on overly sugared tea alone. Not sleeping didn’t put the demons at bay, but at least when he was awake he wasn’t forced to confront the man he never wanted to remember being.

It had been 57 days since Rose Tyler had last spoken to him, and the Doctor detonated a bomb in the abandoned annex Torchwood had scheduled to be demolished and rebuilt.

Then the counter reset to zero.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” she yelled, barging into the top floor lab where he had been checking the readings on the EEPEC.

Everything that he wanted to say to her, and the Doctor was struck mute.

“Whatever plans you think you have, however good of an idea it is, for the good of the planet or, or the galaxy or what, you don’t just go blowing up buildings without a word to anyone! Do you know that everyone else was too scared to come up here and have a word with you, because that highly confidential ridiculous contract you drew up made its way through the gossips and isn’t so classified anymore. Now no one wants to go toe to toe with the man who ‘speaks for the planet’,” Rose growled through the air quotes. “So tell me, Doctor, what genius reason you’ve got for blowing up the Records Annex?”

A slow smile spread across his face.

“It worked.”

“What?”

“Remember ‘run’?” he asked, bouncing away from the baby TARDIS and circling her, picking up his new sonic screwdriver as he did and deadlock sealing the only door off the floor.

“Run?” she frowned as he circled back.

“Run,” he whispered in her ear as he passed, running up a small set of stairs to flip a giant switch that activated the clock-lights outside of their automated timer. Likely no one noticed outside with the sun still out, but it lit up the lab. “Henrik’s basement, Nestene Consciousness, shop window dummies, you and me. How did that night end?” he asked, with a manic grin as he skidded to a stop in front of her.

“Oh, that ‘run’,” Rose breathed, trying to fight back a smile. “You blew up my job.”

“I blew up your job.”

She huffed, blowing her bangs out of her eyes, and crossed her arms. His shoulders fell, exhaustion pressing down onto each and every bone of his new, much more fragile body.

“I just want to talk,” he told her, only a moment away from begging.

“Alright then. Talk.”

Everything he wanted to say to her, and all of it felt disjointed in his overtired mind. Yet she was here now, and if she left he didn’t have a new idea for getting her back again. So he talked.

“I’m sorry. That I made this choice for you, even if it was technically a different me who did it. I’m sorry that this is the best option, the safest option. I’m sorry I never got the chance to explain everything to you before. But I am never going to say goodbye to you, Rose. Never. And I know that the power of words doesn’t translate as well for you, the science of psycho-kinetic-telepathic influence on the elements of creation. But there are some things I can never risk saying aloud. There are some beings that exist, at least in our original universe, that could easily- … still, no matter what universe we’re in, I’m never going to say it. Forever, Rose Tyler. It’s longer than you can comprehend. An eternal silence stretching infinitely ahead, timelines swirling in every direction. This one is ours, if you’ll- if you could just- if you could see in twenty-odd dimensions and focused on individual temporal waveforms, the quantum reality of specific-”

“Doctor!” she shouted when his legs gave out, immediately grabbing hold of him, joining him on the floor.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, but when he moved to get back up she easily held him down. Rose gently manipulated his face, giving him a basic medical check. He couldn’t help but smile a little at how much she had learned while they were away, only to then frown at how hard he imagined it all must have been for her. Floundering, he tried to make a joke. “So, I’m still the Doctor?”

Which went ignored.

“You look like a wreck,” she told him, and it wasn’t new information. The Doctor now made much more frequent trips to the restroom and was well aware of how pale he was, of the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He had at least been making a disjointed effort to shave, which was another activity that had increased with his meta crisis, and admittedly it had slipped his mind for a couple days.

“It’s not easy, doing this without you,” he admitted. “But if you need more time, I want you to take it. I really am alright. There’s just so much I need to tell you, now that I can.”

“What do you mean, ‘now that you can’?”

“Different universe, firm walls in between. I don’t have to worry about using the wrong words at the wrong time and having cosmic consequences … for a lot of things, not all things. With our timeline in a different dimension and reality back as it should be, at least for the moment, I can tell you all sorts of things. Though the most important one, the one I’m never going to miss an opportunity to say, is that I love you, Rose Tyler. Forever.”

“I love you, too,” she sighed, caressing his cheek for a moment before helping him up. “But I’m still mad at you. Now you need sleep.”

“But I’m not done talking,” the Doctor complained, dragging his feet as she led him over to the sofa in the corner.

“We’ll talk more after you’ve gotten some rest, okay? I promise.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, more horizontal than he remembered being just a moment ago. Something soft and warm ensconced his body. He hadn’t realized how cold he had been until just then.

Another breath and black oblivion overtook him. Peaceful until it suddenly very much wasn’t.

A shockwave. A rift in time and space. A breached void. A crack in reality. A big red button. No more. Howling, howling, howling.

“Wake up!”

His eyes snapped open.

He didn’t know where he was. Nothing felt right; not the air, not time, not even his own body. The Doctor tried to do a quick systems check, and the results were all wrong. His hand flew to his chest, where only one heart was beating.

A choking scream echoed through the space, which seemed to be tick tick ticking, and he didn’t realize that it was him who shouted until soothing hands were brushing through his hair. Vision focusing, he saw Rose Tyler kneeling next to him, or at least it was something that looked like Rose Tyler. She felt too cool. Or maybe he was too warm.

“Are you real?” he asked, hoping that she wouldn’t lie to him.

Just one heart working, and it was beating too fast, refusing to slow down. The air was too thick, he couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah.” A sad smile. “I’m real.”

The Doctor didn’t know if he believed her, closing his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to see the moment she inevitably vanished. “I’m dying,” he told the being-who-might-be-Rose as he shuddered and collapsed back onto some sort of sofa.

“You’re fine,” she lied, but it was a lie she seemed to believe.

“Only got one heart beating,” he admitted, trying to get his breathing under control as his malfunctioning body began to sweat. The room ticked away, and he wondered if all of this was about to explode, if he should be running, if he even could run. His legs felt like lead. So did his arms. The air was too thick, dragging him down.

“That’s-”

The Doctor shut his eyes tighter, tears escaping that he hadn’t even realized were there. She must have vanished, just like he knew she would. And if she was never real to begin with, why did it have to hurt so much for her to go?

A weight rested on top of him, and he would never forget the feel of her. He vaguely wondered what it meant for him, to be having tactile hallucinations. Olfactory hallucinations. Even the buzz of time that had never left her skin after she took in the vortex was present.

“You’ve still got two beating,” Rose whispered as his arms wrapped around her in a tight hold that didn’t feel nearly strong enough to keep her. He wasn’t strong enough to keep her.

Her heart beat steadily over where his right heart had failed.

“I’m scared,” the Doctor admitted, eyes still closed though it was oddly easier to breathe.

“I’ve got you.”

“Please be real,” he whimpered, even as his mind grew foggier.

She said something, but he didn’t know what. Everything was fading away, darkness becoming darker, becoming void.

Nothing.

The Doctor awoke alone on the couch in his office. According to his time sense, he had slept for eighteen hours and twenty-one minutes. He felt better than he had in weeks, but also so much worse. He grabbed his pillow and screamed into it.

“What’s wrong now?”

The pillow dropped from his hands and his eyes locked with Rose’s as she raced up the slight stair onto the platform that separated his primary workspace from the rest of the top floor.

“What?” His voice cracked.

Rose Tyler sat next to him on the couch, hand immediately resting on his forehead, primitively gauging his temperature. The Doctor cleared his throat before trying again.

“Rose, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad, I’m so very, very glad you’ve come.” Her hand dropped away and he was able to get a good look at her, dressed in a pair of his boxers and one of his shirts (Jackie had bought him a ridiculous amount of clothes before he left the manor, all of which he sent out to be cleaned). He swallowed audibly. “W-why are you wearing my clothes?”

“‘M locked in here. Door’s deadlock sealed.”

Flashes of memories began to speed through him. Attaching a re-calibrated Tziklian implosion grenade to a newly-repaired retroreflective Clishtahrr drone. Obsessively trying to circumvent his vision in order to peer at his own timeline, making himself sick. A contained rift event in the lower levels of the tower that made him feel like he had looked into the untempered schism again.

(Run, run, run!)

“I’m sorry. I don’t … I’ll just …”

He pushed himself up onto unsteady legs, found his sonic screwdriver and unsealed the door. And he wished he hadn’t trapped her with him, even if he was starting to remember why (inky black terror crawling up his spine, wrong universe, wrong universe, wrong universe).

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” she asked, following him as he went to check the TARDIS on autopilot, looking as if she was worried he would collapse (again).

“It’s coming back to me,” the Doctor admitted. Still had a good four hours to go before the shatterfry process would be complete. He straightened his shoulders, trying to stand tall as he turned to face her. “Things got a little, uhm, unpleasant. I’ll do better.”

“Unpleasant,” Rose scoffed. “I’m pretty sure you had a bleedin’ breakdown!”

“It’s been a difficult regeneration,” he deflected, turning away, leaving the platform and making a beeline to the tiny kitchenette tucked off to the side. Tea. He just needed more tea.

“So, this how it’s gonna be, then? All that stuff about wanting to talk, but now you’re just done?”

He nearly spilled the kettle with the speed of his turn, brows furrowed and mouth falling open. “What? Of course I want to talk!” the Doctor exclaimed. “Just, er, what did I say? Before?”

Memory was still a bit of a blur. Successful energy funnel for the TARDIS’ growth tank. Vodka tasting different in a universe without potatoes. Reports saying: Correct universe. Wrong time - past. No contact.

“You don’t remember?”

“I said it was coming back to me, it’s just not coming in the right order.” he sighed, refocusing on the tea.

“Well, what’s the last thing that you vividly remember?” Rose asked, moving around him, easily finding mugs and sugar and milk.

“Thirteen days ago, creating a temporal disruption chrono-field manipulator. Needed to siphon rift energy for our TARDIS. She needs a very specific growth environment.”

“Thirteen days?! Wait, siphoning the-” She leaned against the tiny countertop and covered her face with her hands. The only sound for a few moments was of the electric kettle quickly boiling the water. “Our TARDIS?”

“If you want,” the Doctor muttered, lifting a hand, wanting to touch her, but then thinking better of it. He clenched his fist as it dropped to his side.

Rose groaned as she turned back to him. “Of course I want that, you daft alien git! But you don’t exactly make things easy, do ya? I spent years getting back to you, and then suddenly there’s two of you and one of you abandons me just like I was always afraid of, but one of you stays and I’m expected to be able to process any of it? And then for weeks it’s an effort just to give myself space, knowing that wherever I go you’re so close, part of me wondering why I’m even trying to stay away when all I wanted for ages was to be back with you. Then suddenly you’re gone! I still know where you are, but there isn’t a chance that I’d actually run into you. And I still don’t know what to feel, but coming here yesterday, seeing you … I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so broken.” There were tears in her eyes. His nails dug into his palms with the effort it took not to wrap his arms around her, to wipe them away. “I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault.”

“It’s not. It’s my own fault. You haven’t done a single thing wrong,” he assured her.

“That’s not true and you know it,” she tried to laugh, but it came out watery. “I’ve been an absolute cow. And I still haven’t answered your question. You’d said some things about words being a type of science, and that you could say things here that you couldn’t in the other universe. Like you were paranoid, under surveillance or something? I think you tried to describe how your time sense stuff works, but you almost fainted.”

“Fifty-seven days without you and that’s what I was talking about?” The Doctor grimaced.

The kettle clicked off.

“If it makes you feel better, it was kinda romantic. The stuff about not saying goodbye and forever and blowing up my job.”

“Blowing up your what?!”

“That’s why I had to come here. You blew up the old Records Annex.”

“Riiiiight. That explains the drone bomb. It’s not like they weren’t going to blow it up anyway. Didn’t I help?”

Rose rolled her eyes before moving to fix both their teas. “We’ll get into that later. Right now I don’t even want to talk about us. I wanna know about you, what you’ve been doing these past two months. Because I didn’t even stop to think what this all must be like for you.”

Cuppa in hand, the Doctor led her back to the couch as he tried to think of how best to explain something that he barely understood himself.

“I was created in a two-way human-Time Lord instant biological meta crisis. Hundreds of years as one being, then suddenly two. Exact same mind, almost the exact same body, but different enough that I can barely comprehend existing in it. If you remember, the first forty-eight hours of the regeneration cycle are complicated and dangerous. Barely a few hours into mine I was dropped outside of the prime universe that all Gallifreyans are meant to exist in, cut off from all telepathic contact as the walls of reality continued to sway, slowly falling back into place. It’s been … an adjustment. Sometimes things don’t feel real, even when they are. Sometimes things feel incredibly real, even when they aren’t.”

“You had a nightmare,” Rose told him, placing a hand on his shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles through his layers. “I woke you up, tried to help. You didn’t think I was real. You thought you were dying, because you only had one heart.”

He tried to smile, and the action felt painful. “Sounds about right.”

“I’m sorry. If I hadn’t been so selfish-”

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I want you to put yourself first.”

“But I can’t stand seeing you in pain like this. What can I do to help?” she asked, a desperation in her eyes that he couldn’t bear.

“You’re already helping,” the Doctor sighed, finally giving in and leaning into her touch, lying his head on her shoulder. It was the closest he’d felt to time since they’d been left on that bloody beach.

Memories were still racing through his head. Energy coils radiating artron energy into a centrifuge. The smell of burnt flesh against the remains of a Bverni navigational system. Reports saying: Correct universe. Wrong time - future. No contact.

“The other Doctor said that you needed me.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“Yes, because he needs you. He also said that I was dangerous. I am. He is. We are. But you already knew that. It’s easy, you know, to yell at yourself. Not often that there’s actually a separate you there to yell at. I destroyed the Daleks, but we’d already done that before we met. In fact, so did you. The other me was lashing out, knowing what he would have to do but not wanting to do it.”

“That’s another thing,” Rose said, moving to face him, dislodging his head, “you said that us being here, in this universe, was the best, safest option. What was that about?”

“Something’s coming. Has come. Ended and began. There’s a massive paradox surrounding me in the other universe. Incredibly dangerous, potentially catastrophic. All I know is that it has something to do with a woman named River Song who claims to be my wife.”

“Your wife?!”

“I said claims. And she did seem to be telling the truth, besides the fact that what she was saying was entirely preposterous. My soul is entirely bound to yours.” The Doctor took her hand and squeezed it. “So I think I have an idea of the kind of man I’ll have to become in order to keep the universe intact.”

“What’s that?”

“A liar. If she is going to believe that I could possibly join myself to someone else, someone who isn’t you, I’m going to have to lie. I’m going to have to forget. I’m going to have to lie so well and for so long that even I believe the fiction I’ve created for myself.”

He wondered what the other him in the other universe would think, then, whenever he caught a rare glimpse at their timeline surrounded in gold, bound with Rose’s for all eternity. What kind of explanation he would craft. The Doctor shuddered.

“But that sounds horrible!” she cried.

“It’s the sacrifice he’s making for the sake of the universe. My timeline is dangerous and someone, something is tampering with it. You and I made one tiny little paradox and it almost destroyed everything. This one is circular, might be able to be maintained, but the scale of it, Rose. And who knows if it will even work. River seems great and all, at least I hope so, but I don’t think she has much of a handle on time travel. That, or she’s a manipulative psychopath. Suppose that’s a surprise for the other me to find out.”

Rose sniffled and he pulled her into a hug.

“He’s going to be all alone.” The words were muffled into his shoulder, his shirt growing damp with her tears. He cringed and tried to think rationally, that of course she would feel this way, that it had nothing to do with how she felt about him him. But then again, maybe it did.

“He won’t be alone. He’ll find someone. I always do, eventually.”

“B-but I-”

“We’ll figure it out. How to get you back there, once it’s safe,” he whispered into the top of her head. Maybe that would be it- what she needed this him for. And if so, it would be enough. It would have to be enough.

“Really?”

The Doctor nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“So it’s not- you really weren’t abandoning me here?” Rose lifted her head, eyes brimming with a hope that had been missing before.

“Never.” The word felt as if it was torn out of his very being.

She cupped his cheek, stubble beginning to smooth out into the beginnings of a beard. He really needed to shave.

“I thought you said to never say never ever?”

“That was before.”

It occurred to him that he had tea, so he took a sip - it had gone cold.

“Oh, right, all the, uhm, psychic-kinetic-telepathy science stuff.”

He opened his mouth to correct her - she was very close, though - but was interrupted by the ringing of the giant clock. It was heavily muffled by the sound proofing adjustments he had made while setting up the office, but still audible enough.

“It’s eight now, yeah?” Rose asked, even as she moved away.

“Yes.”

She walked over to his desk, where the Doctor now noticed a pile of her folded clothes sat. He frowned when she brought them over to him.

“Do you think you could sonic these clean for me? I’m gonna quick hop into your decontamination shower.”

“Th- there’s a proper shower, it’s two floors down. First left, third right, door marked ‘Security Level Alpha’.”

“What, really?”

“Didn’t want random lab techs using it. Has a retina scan. It’ll let you in.”

Rose laughed, ruffled his hair, and gave him a kiss on the cheek before disappearing to get ready for work. The whole thing left him confused. He went through his list again, checking and double checking to make sure that this all was real . It was, just as it had been all morning.

More memories. Recalibrating the tower’s new sub-basement weapon’s vault. Burnt toast and no more jam left. Reports saying: Correct universe. Wrong time - future. Contact made.

It wasn’t fair that she had spent almost an entire day with him yet he had missed most of it. Still, he sonicked her clothes, as well as his tea. Finished his cuppa, and then had a second before Rose came back from her shower.

“Why’s there no one around?”

“Dangerous radiation leak,” the Doctor shrugged. “I fixed it almost as soon as it happened, but apparently there’s ‘procedures’. How’d you get in?”

She bit her lip, fighting a smile. “Mighta shot a few of your doors,” Rose admitted, picking up an electro-pulse blaster off of a nearby cart. Non-lethal on organic matter. Very effective on fancy doors. “Nobody told me anything about a radiation leak, though.”

“Classified radiation leak.”

“And why’s that?” she scowled, hands on her hips.

“Everything to do with time travel is classified to this office. Bethany is not being very cooperative about putting you down as a liaison-whatever. Please believe me, I wasn’t trying to keep anything a secret.”

“Oh.” Rose glanced over at the EEPEC, absently biting her thumbnail.

The Doctor didn’t know what she was thinking, didn’t know if he should ask. After a moment she disappeared into the loo to change, promising to be back in a tick.

It was a funny multiverse, really, that his reunion with Rose Tyler would be such a stilted thing. That it would be about him and her, but not this him. Acknowledged with a few questions after his health, sure, but that was just polite. She’d always been compassionate, caring for others. Rose didn’t see him as the Doctor. Not the proper one. Sure, she used his name, but it would be easier for her to do that this time around.

He looked just like him.

He was him.

But he wasn’t.

Memories were still coming. Adjustments to Torchwood’s alien tech retrieval protocols. Nutrition shots. Reports reading: Correct universe. Wrong time - past. Contact made.

He went through the list again. Still real.

Unless it wasn’t.

Unless he wasn’t.

What would have stopped the other Doctor from knocking him out and uploading him into a matrix? Giving him a half-life with a programmed Rose Tyler?

The air here felt wrong.

(Wrong universe. Wrong universe. Wrong universe.)

“Doctor!”

(Daleks exploding. “What have you done?!”)

Pressure against his hands. Why was it so dark?

The Doctor opened his eyes to see Rose in front of him, pulling his fingers away from his palms. Oh. He was bleeding. Hadn’t even noticed.

“Sorry, sorry.” He spun away from her in order to grab the first aid kit from his desk.

“What happened?” she asked, vibrating with barely contained panic.

“Nothing, nothing. Things just got jumbled for a second,” he assured her, efficiently cleaning his palms and wrapping them in gauze in a practiced motion.

“How often do you-”

“Hard to say. I’ve been graphing them. Seems to be stress contingent, but generally decreasing. My senses are gradually acclimating to this universe, so I have to hope that once they do, I’ll be fine. Perfect. Molto bene. No inconvenient lapses.”

“Stress? What h- oh.”

He didn’t like the sound of that ‘oh’. The Doctor clenched his jaw before facing her.

“We still haven’t talked about us,” Rose pointed out, approaching him slowly. Like he was a wild animal. Like he would hurt her. “And you … you don’t really remember yesterday still, do you?”

“Not really.”

His hands hurt. His body ached. One heart, and it was beating so quickly that he was sure it would give out.

Rose wrapped her arms around him and he automatically returned the embrace.

“Maybe I should just call in,” she suggested as she pulled away. “We can just take the day?”

“Or don’t and stay anyway,” the Doctor couldn’t help pointing out. “Some bits have come back, and didn’t they send you here?”

She burst into laughter. “Oh my god, they did!”

And it was beyond words, how great it was to hear her laughing again. To see her smiling.

But …

That was wrong.

Rose was upset with him.

Time didn’t feel right.

The air tasted off.

Wrong Universe. Wrong Universe. Wrong Universe.

The Doctor staggered backwards.

His respiratory bypass was malfunctioning. It was like it wasn’t even there. He couldn’t get air into his lungs.

Everything went black.

There was a shot of gold, and then a different kind of black.

“Doctor,” said a whisper in the dark. “The timer went off for the TARDIS. ‘M I supposed to take her out of that thing?”

A TARDIS timer?

TARDIS … timer …

The timer for the extended electro-percussive environment chamber!!!

The Doctor shot up from where he had apparently been lying on the couch and ran over to the EEPEC, swiftly shut it off, removed the tank housing their baby TARDIS, and then poured in the pre-prepared aqueous nutrient solution before inserting the tank into the quasi-dimensional artron chamber (currently set to it’s highest opacity setting).

“Hah!” he exclaimed, punching his fist in the air and itching to switch the chamber’s outside view settings to transparent. He turned to Rose, opened his mouth to ask her, and then paused.

It all came back to him, all of it, not just the jumbled recollections he had been getting earlier. Apparently he had fallen into a healing coma, and it seems to have been just what he needed … but it all truly hadn’t been fair to Rose. Though, to be fair, she was currently smiling like it was Christmas, so-

Christmas. Healing comas.

Huh.

“Shall we switch it to transparent?” the Doctor asked, unable to reign himself in any longer. “It was clear when Benny - quite the coincidence, right? - helped me set it up. This is a quasi-dimensional artron chamber. It’s funnelling in rift energy and centrifuging artron particles, and the end result in that chamber is the specific environment needed to properly grow a TARDIS. Well, along with the chrono-nutritio aqueous habitat. Benny describes looking into it as being similar to taking DMT, which, by the way, is completely inaccurate. It’s exactly like looking into an Eye of Harmony. If it’s malfunctioning, it’s like looking into the untempered schism, which I don’t recommend. But everything’s stable now, we could-”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to look into the vortex?” Rose interrupted, and …

“Right … erm, well ,” he hedged, scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, it isn’t actually the vortex, but you’re probably not completely wrong. Best not risk it.”

Excitement abating, the Doctor slumped against the chamber and at that moment realized that he had been changed into jim jams.

Jim jams. Healing comas.

Huh.

At least these were his own pajamas, and not some ‘friend’ of Jackie’s, though how strange was it that he owned his own pajamas in the first place?

“C’mere,” Rose said, beckoning him back toward the couch, which she was sitting next to, but not on. Not your typical decision, but he had likely taken up all of the space earlier. “I made you some tea.”

It really wasn’t worth it, cataloguing the similarities between this and when he had first regenerated into this body … even though the list did seem to be growing.

“Perfect! Just what I need!” the Doctor smiled as he walked over, taking a seat next to Rose on the floor.

Silence fell as he sipped his tea, and he found himself unsure of what to do or say next. There was too much to say, and he’d certainly done a piss poor job of organizing his thoughts earlier.

“Feeling better?” she asked, after another moment.

Small talk. He could definitely do small talk.

“Mmm yes, very much so.”

“Better enough to talk?”

The Doctor coughed, having swallowed his tea incorrectly (bloody hybrid body, still acting up), before nodding. Rose moved onto the couch and he scrambled to join her.

“So,” she began and paused, face scrunching up in concentration (it was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one who found this whole business incredibly awkward), “I guess … what is it that you actually want? Aside from a working TARDIS, that is.”

His brows furrowed.

Sure, there were plenty of ways he could answer that question and have all of them be true, but he had a feeling that she was looking for a specific type of ‘want’.

Problem was, the Doctor wasn’t quite sure what that was .

“What?” he asked, in lieu of any better things to say (as the runner up response was to ask for some jam, or maybe a banana, or some of the takeaway from the shop down the corner and blimey, he was hungry).

“This whole time, all of it, since you c- since you were- since you stopped just bein’ a hand- ” the Doctor had a list of complaints and corrections that he barely held in “- nobody’s asked what you wanted. The D- the other Doctor chose for both of us, really, and I hadn’t really looked at it that way before. An’ I wanna know. What do you want?”

Removed from the actual experience itself (and therefore not feeling incredibly, deathly ill), visions of the slight peek he’d gotten four days ago of his own timeline played in his head.

The Doctor grabbed Rose’s hand, weaving their fingers together.

“I want this.”

She smiled and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Care to elaborate?” she asked with a slight laugh.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. “Because as long as you’re happy, everything else is just- just semantics. I mean, obviously it’s going to be a bit dull until the TARDIS has grown enough for proper travel, but I think we can make do?” At least, he really hoped so. It hadn’t been going swimmingly so far, but the Doctor sincerely hoped that he could chalk all that up to the initial side effects of the meta crisis, compounded by all of the, er … technical difficulties he had run into while constructing the TARDIS’ growth tank. Also, his new hybrid body needed much more maintenance than he was used to, including sleep. Really was rubbish without regular sleep. Such a waste of time.

“So, if I were to suggest you moving into the flat?”

He opened his mouth, intending to immediately agree, but then frowned. The TARDIS was here, after all. And he absolutely could not move her. Not at this stage. Not until she could connect to other dimensions on her own. The Doctor looked over at the quasi-dimensional artron chamber, once again wishing that he could switch it to transparent and watch the process unfold.

“How moved in is moved in?” he asked once he forced himself to turn back toward Rose.

“You’d sleep there, shower there, eat some of your meals. Most of your clothes an’ stuff would be there. Y’know. It’d be where you live. With me. If you want.”

“And that’s what you want?” he double checked, trying not to telegraph his surprise - he must have missed a lot while in a coma, as last he knew they were teetering on the edge of a row.

Rose rolled her eyes, and that was much more in line with where he thought they were at, er, relationship-wise.

“Well, I don’t fancy living in a clocktower office. When I’m done working, I’d like to not still be at work, ta.”

She did make some excellent points … but still, it all implied that they would be staying together. And that was what he wanted, of course it was, but the Doctor still couldn’t help but feel he had missed something crucial despite the fact that he could now remember everything clearly.

“You blew up my job. ”

“I love you, too. But I’m still mad at you.”

“You’ve still got two beating.”

Maybe there wasn’t something to have missed. Human emotions were relatively complex, after all, and there was no rule requiring them to happen in isolation.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asked, realizing as he did that to Rose it was coming from seemingly out of nowhere.

This was confirmed as she blinked, brows furrowing.

“I don’t know. Maybe a little, but …”

“But?” the Doctor repeated, unable to stand the suspense.

“It’s hardly the first time we’ve had a fight, yeah?”

He nodded, unsure of where she was planning on going with this and hoping that he wouldn’t need to begin apologizing for every insensitive thing he’d said or done since they first met. It would take ages.

“Well, we always end up workin’ it out. And we did live together, travelin’ on the TARDIS, whether we had a row or not, so …” Rose shrugged, now examining her fingernails.

Speaking of the TARDIS, though …

“First things first,” the Doctor began, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up and began pacing, “I want it on record that I would absolutely love to live in a flat with you, with carpets and doors and things. Assuming we’d spend much of our time traveling about, that is.” He turned back toward her, having paced his way back over to the TARDIS’ QDA chamber. “The thing is, it’s … I don’t want you to think that- the TARDIS. She needs me here. This is a critical development period. For the next three to six months, the TARDIS will be growing in the chamber, learning how to connect to and create dimensions. Until she can manage it, I can’t move her and she requires near-constant monitoring. Every hour or two.”

“She’s like a newborn baby,” Rose commented, getting up and joining him at the chamber, where she stroked the side.

“Exactly.”

“Well, I suppose this’ll have to do then,” she reluctantly … agreed? “As long as we’re living in the flat as soon as she’s moveable, mind. The bathroom here is two floors away.”

“It’s a clocktower, Rose! There’s only so much space.” The Doctor scrunched up his face as he said the word.

“Then why’d you pick this place? I know because of the Rift, but doesn’t it stretch further than just the tower?”

“Nope,” he shrugged.

It’s not as though he hadn’t checked.

“Really?”

“Small rift.”

“Yeah,” Rose laughed, “a small rift right under Big Ben.”

The Doctor laughed with her, amazed that he finally could.

Then he frowned.

It was all a little too good to be true.

Was this real?

“Hey.”

He refocused. Rose was right in front of him, their eyes locked.

“You were getting that look in your eyes,” she informed him.

“Look? What look?” the Doctor asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew. Some sort of dazed tell, some sort of glaringly obvious indicator that his grasp on reality was failing him.

“This look you get when you start thinkin’ you’re in the wrong universe.”

Wrong universe, wrong universe, wrong universe.

“Well, I am in the wrong universe,” he couldn’t help but point out.

“Yeah, I know. Me too. But y’know what?”

Rose wrapped her arms around him, and it was almost as if she were his tether, grounding him to this new reality they’d found themselves in.

“It’s better with two.”

#TenToo x Rose #doctor x rose #pairing: rose x doctor #timepetals #fic: improbable multiversal transcending spacetime event #fandom: doctor who #my fic

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riversofmars · 4 years ago

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Answers at last! Well, I saw answers... :D

Chapter 7: So We Meet Again

The Library, 52nd Century

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?“ A male figure appeared in their midst. Dark hair and beard, stout frame, he took a twirl, looking around, delighted at the surprise and shock on everyone’s faces.

“It’s can’t be…“ River mumbled, trying to catch up with what was happening. How did he get in here? He was not part of the memory.

“It’s been a while, Professor Song.“ He turned to face her with a wide grin, baring his teeth.

“He’s not the Doctor, is he?“ Anita spoke slowly. She had learned enough about Time Lords during their extensive research to understand about regeneration and River had shown her pictures of all her husband’s faces. That man was not one of them and even on first impressions, he seemed in no way similar to the man she herself had met. He certainly didn’t look at River like someone would look at their wife, he looked at her like she was prey.

“The Doctor? Oh, don’t be ridiculous.“ He nearly burst out laughing as if it was the funniest thing he had heard all day. “Been there, done that, just wasn’t my cup of tea.“ His voice turned to a snarl, it seemed to change ever so slightly; he shushed himself.

“No, this is another Time Lord.“ River said, balling her hands to fists, trying to maintain her composure.

“Of course you get it, you’re clever like that.“ He mused, tilting his head. “I’m difficult to forget, didn’t we have he best of times.“ He interrupted himself, his voiced higher and more excitable. He smirked with a mad sort of glee in his eyes. “No, no, shut up, it’s my turn now!“ His voice turned normal as he snapped angrily. Anita and CAL exchanged confused and worried glances, fearing they might be dealing with a mad man. River, however, already knew for a fact that they were:

“You’re the Eleven.“ She circled around the room slowly, coming to stand protectively in front of CAL and Anita. She didn’t know whether he was really here or just a projection, but she couldn’t take the risk. She had to keep them safe. They had no idea who they were dealing with.

“The Thirteen, actually, but who’s counting.“ He retorted graciously and took a little bow.

“Must be getting pretty crowded in that head of yours.“ River hummed and in response, another personality emerged:

“Long time no see, Ms. Song.“ His face contorted into a grin.

“Hello again, Nine.“ River remained calm. She knew it was the best way to deal with them.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.“ His voice turned higher, almost feminine.

“Twelve?“ River could only guess, as it was the regeneration of his she hadn’t met before.

“Shut up, the lot of you.“ The Thirteen regained control of his personalities. “Sorry, this is not how I was going to introduce myself, best foot forward and all that, but they’re just so excited to see you again. The Six, in particular, is very eager but we’ll save that for later.“ He smiled apologetically.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?“ River decided to ignore the games and cut right to the chase. She glanced to CAL, hoping she was paying attention. If they found out how he got in, they surely would be able to get rid of him as well. She would have to regain control of the computer.

“Seven hacked the system, child’s play really; and now I can see why.“ He smirked at CAL who took a fearful step back and Anita put a protective arm around her. “I’m not really here, of course, just a projection, but I liked the personal touch. Better than talking to a screen, you know?“ River felt a little better for knowing he wasn’t actually part of the artificial world of the Library core but hacking the system was just as bad. Who knew what else he was planning on doing?

“So you’re responsible for this?“ Anita concluded gesturing around to the woman and child that had stopped moving. She hadn’t really followed who exactly he was but it was was blatantly obvious that this scary vision was his doing.

“It’s from the Matrix.“ River stated and the Thirteen grinned:

“Indeed. I didn’t really have the means to play it. I needed a bigger computer, something able to convert it. And I needed someone who’d be able to interpret it.“

“So you used the Library, a computer big enough to handle Matrix data.“ River was beginning to understand. They weren’t her memories that had bled into the artificial reality. It was data the Thirteen had fed into the system. In turn it had helped her unlock her own memories of what she’d seen in the Matrix. “What is that memory? What’s the story behind it.“ She asked, drawing his attention back as he seemed momentarily distracted. Not by his other personalities, for once, but seemingly by something outside.

“A missing puzzle piece.“ He answered briefly and gave a dismissive wave with his hand. “Now we best get going.“

“What?“ Anita asked confused while River remained silent, her mind racing. What was he planning? She knew better than to underestimate the renegade Time Lord.

“The shadows will be back in a moment.“ He explained in an off-hand sort of way. “Get your coat, Professor Song. Oh wait, you haven’t got a body to put it on.“ He laughed, then disappeared.

“River…“ CAL reached out for River’s hand but she grasped into thin air, River was gone as well.

——

Glasgow, 2021

“So this is where you went once the Daleks were gone?“ Ryan asked Jack as they started walking further into the underground building.

“Had to go say hi to Gwen here and she filled me in on what’s been going on. I’ve been out in the universe too long it seems. Time to look after the home front.“ Jack explained with a determined nod and Kate smiled:

“We’re glad to have you, Captain.“

“How many people have you got here.“ Graham looked around, marvelling at the size of the place. It could have housed a hundred easily and there was an erie quality to it with how quiet and seemingly empty it was.

“Not as many as you’d hope. Friends of the Doctor’s it’s quite an exclusive club, but it’s not quantity, it’s quality.“ Kate answered leading the way.

“So how do you know the Doctor?“ Ryan asked Gwen who was walking alongside him.

“Only met him briefly, during one Dalek invasion or another. Honestly, it all blends together.“ She chuckled.

“Ms. Cooper is one of Torchwood’s finest.“ Kate interjected and Gwen sighed:

“And only remaining member…“

“Hey!“ Jack took offence and elbowed her.

“You don’t count, you’re off doing other stuff all the time.“ Gwen slapped his shoulder affectionately and carried on to explain: “I have been trying to rebuild the Torchwood Three hub as well, seeing as it’s closer to home, but it’s slow progress.“

“Torchwood, like UNIT, is like an agency, is it? To ward of aliens?“ Graham asked, trying to wrap his head around it.

“In a nutshell, yes.“ Kate nodded as she lead them down some stairs. “If you come through here, I will introduce you to the rest of the team.“ The steps opened up into a large room. “I know it’s late but they have been waiting up for you.“ They reached a big communal living and working area. There were several tables, desks, computers and such and amongst it all: four people.

“Mr. O’Brien, Mr. Sinclair, let me introduce Dr. Martha Jones and Mr. Mickey Smith, two of UNIT’s finest field agents and former travelling companions of the Doctor’s.“ Kate gesture towards a couple who were lounging on a sofa, currently devouring a Chinese take away with great enthusiasm.

“Nice to finally meet you.“ Martha smiled at them warmly and Mickey, his mouth full of food, couldn’t speak and just gave a wave with his chopsticks. They got up to shake hands as the group approached.

“Likewise, I guess.“ Graham managed an awkward smile as well. During their travels with the Doctor, they had never really stopped to think how many more people had taken trips in the TARDIS before them. It was strange to think that there were other people out there who would understand what it was like, experiencing the vastness of the universe like they had.

“And these are the Osgoods, the scientific hearts and minds of UNIT.“ Kate carried on and gestured to two women, apparently twins, who were sharing a work station. They simultaneously looked up and smiled in greeting.

“I’m Ryan, this is my granddad Graham.“ Ryan introduced them. “We don’t usually do, like, formal…“ He looked around the room awkwardly. This was a lot more official than he was used to. “Like if you don’t mind, first names are fine.“ Graham nodded in agreement.

“Petronella.“ One to the Osgoods smiled.

“Petronella.“ The other Osgood smiled.

“So… you two have the same name? How do we keep you apart?“ Graham asked, confused, wondering what their parents had possibly been thinking.

“You don’t.“ Kate answered in amusement. “That’s the whole point.“

“Right.“ Ryan decided it was best to just accept that. They had just been recruited into a secret organisation to fight of extraterrestrial threats and entered what looked like a very fancy underground bunker… identical twins with the same names really wasn’t top of the weird-list right now.

“Care for some Chinese?“ Mickey offered. They had ordered way too much as usual.

“Don’t mind if we do.“ Graham grinned since they hadn’t had time to eat before setting of on the long drive. He had been eyeing it up, hoping that was where the evening would be going.

“Ma’am, if we might have a word…“ One for the Osgoods demanded Kate’s attention as everyone else settled down to eat.

“What is it?“ The UNIT chief asked and walked around the desk to be able to look at their computer screens.

“We have found another two bodies.“ The other Osgood answered, pointing something out on the computer and Kate frowned:

“Same MO?“ She asked, leaning closer.

“We fine-tuned the algorithm, running through police data bases and found two matches.“ Osgood confirmed.

“Where?“

“Greater London.“ The other Osgood answered. “Pulled out of a lake. It was fortunate that a couple was walking nearby and spotted movement by the water. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been found for weeks probably.“

“Captain?“ Kate looked up to Jack who was currently recounting to Gwen, Martha and Mickey how he had met Ryan and Graham. “Two for pick up.“ She announced.

“On it, will be back in a flash.“ He gave a dazzling and apologetic smile to the others and came to join Kate and the Osgoods. “Just tell me which morgue they’re in and you’ll have them on your slab momentarily.“ He looked at the screen and skimmed the report.

“So… not just people disappearing from time, murders too?“ Graham asked, listening in.

“This is not your garden variety homicide, I’m afraid, Mr. O’Brian.“ Kate retorted thoughtfully. “You’ll see when the Captain returns with the bodies.“

Jack gave a nod and engaged his Vortex Manipulator.

——

Orbit around the Library, 52nd Century

“Here we go.“ Jenny slipped her hand into her wife’s. She had a bad feeling about this but it couldn’t be helped. They had come out of hyper speed a few minutes ago and had fallen into orbit around the Library.

“A whole planet full of books?“ Yaz couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of it. The idea of having every book ever written together in one place was overwhelming and beautiful.

“And shadows that can kill…“ Dorium couldn’t help but point out. The idea that a world so beautiful was forever lost made Yaz’s heart feel heavy. What a waste.

“Right, here’s what we’re going to do: your UV grenades, Strax: our best bet would be to send one down ahead of us.“ Vastra looked to her butler who grinned with excitement as he proudly presented the grenades. “We arm ourselves to the teeth with torches and such. We won’t have to stay long. Just contact the Professor, ask our questions, fill her in, and be on our way.“ Vastra gave her wife’s hand a reassuring squeeze and looked around the room into determined faces. “Strax, Jenny and I will go.“

“I want to come, too!“ Yaz insisted immediately, she thought herself just as capable as any of them and she didn’t want to be left behind.

“That’s not part of the plan.“ Vastra shook her head.

“I have been in tight spots with the Doctor as well, I can handle myself.“ Yaz retorted, frustrated.

“I don’t doubt that but someone needs to teleport us back. Mr. Maldovar sadly won’t be able to.“ Vastra pointed out. She had no doubts about Yaz’s ability to hold her own but they needed someone to stay behind. She refused to be split up from her wife and Strax was best placed to handle the weapons equipment. It was the logical solution. “We all have a job to do and we need you to keep us safe from up here.“ She carried on to explain.

“Fine.“ Yaz huffed after brief consideration. “Doesn’t mean I like it though.“ She could see her point but she still felt like she was being sidelined.

“We will be back in no time.“ Vastra assured her.

“Right, let’s get this over with… before I change my mind.“ Jenny sighed feeling anxious. She ran her hand along the hilt of her sword despite knowing it would be useless against shadows.

“Oh, well that’s a surprise.“ Dorium pipped up, drawing everyone’s attention.

“What is it?“ Vastra frowned, confused.

“There is an incoming transmission! Someone in that Library is trying to reach out.“ Dorium explained quickly. He closed his eyes, trying to focus with the help of the communications chip connected to him.

“How do they even know we’re here?“ Vastra asked, worried. That didn’t feel right.

“Beats going amongst the shadows, doesn’t it.“ Jenny pointed out and Strax huffed in disappointment:

“I have been looking forward to this for hours…“

“Put it on screen.“ Vastra ignored his complaint and turned to the large screen at the front of the ship. Yaz turned Dorium’s box around so he could see as well.

“River! River! Where are you!“ A small girl appeared on the screen, looking distraught. She couldn’t be older than ten years old, taking everyone by surprise. “Who are you?“ She demanded to know before any of them could get over their shock. Her eyes jumped between all of them. Her message clearly hadn’t been meant for them.

“I’m Madame Vastra, these are Jenny Flint, Strax, Yasmin Kahn and Dorium Maldovar. We mean you no harm.“ Vastra raised her hands appeasingly, trying to reassure her. What was a little girl doing in the Library? And why was she looking for River Song? “You were calling for River, I can only presume you mean Professor Song, we’re here to talk to her.“ Vastra carried on, hoping to explain and gain her trust. She seemed scared.

“You’re too late.“ The girl sobbed, getting more upset.

“What?“ Yaz asked, with a frown. They all exchanged confused glances.

“She just left, I was trying to reach her but it drains the power, so much energy…“ The screen flickered. There was a blip in the transmission, it wasn’t stable.

“Hang on, hang on, you’re in the computer?“ Vastra asked to clarify.

“I am the computer.“ The girl answered, taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She was not as little as she looked. “I’m CAL.“

“And Professor Song, she’s not with you anymore?“ Jenny deduced and her heart sank. This was the one eventuality they had not been prepared for.

“She was taken.“ CAL confirmed, nodding, wiping her tears away.

“By whom?“ Vastra gripped the back of the pilot’s chair and dug her claws into the fabric. Wherever they turned, it seemed as though they were one step behind.

“A Time Lord.“ CAL answered, after brief consideration, seemingly deciding to trust them.

“What did he look like? Did he give a name?“ Yaz asked quickly.

“He called himself the Thirteen.“ The girl said quickly, as the transmission stalled again. “I’m sorry, I can’t maintain this much longer. Why are you looking for River?“

“We’re friends of the Doctor’s. There are some terrible things going on out in the universe and we need to talk to her.“ Vastra rushed to explain.

“Please find her, he… “

The connection broke and for a moment, there was stunned silence.

“How is that possible?“ Yaz turned to the others, slowly finding her voice again. “You can’t just, like, download a consciousness onto a USB stick or something…“

“Don’t underestimate Time Lord technology…“ Vastra mused, mulling over what they had learned. This was far worse than facing the Vashta Nerada. They had fallen another step behind in a race in which the goal posts seemed to keep moving.

“We need to find her.“ Jenny said, shaking her head to herself. If only they had been a little earlier, they could have prevented this.

“Who’s the Thirteen?“ Yaz looked around the room, hoping for an explanation. Was this another of the Doctor’s enemies she didn’t know about?

“Doesn’t mean anything to me either, I was hopeful you might have come across them?“ Vastra retorted with a frown as they exchanged confused glances. They had each assumed the other would have the answers but the alias was familiar to any of them.

“Oh no…“ Dorium mumbled, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Can you shed some light on this, Mr. Maldovar?“ Vastra asked, turning his box around to face them again.

“I’ve heard of a Time Lord that goes my numerical designations… The Nine, the Ten, the Eleven… depending on which regeneration he is on…“ He answered slowly. The reluctance in his voice gave them all pause.

“Stands to reason this is a new regeneration then?“ Yaz nodded, relieved that they weren’t completely in the dark after all.

“Why change the name though with every regeneration? Must be quite… disorienting, mustn’t it?“ Jenny asked.

“He is a very unique case…“ Dorium hummed thoughtfully.

“How so?“ Vastra could already tell she wouldn’t like the answer but she asked anyway.

“From what I have heard, he suffers from a strange affliction… called regenerative dissonance. While the Doctor and other Time Lords retain a sense of self and just change their appearance, he becomes a new person every time and when he regenerates, the other selfs are still present.“ Dorium revealed. He had never actually met them but he had heard enough stories to make sure he never would.

“Like a schizophrenic?“ Yaz asked, unsettled. That didn't sound like the kind of person they wanted to be dealing with.

“Anything else you can tell us, Mr. Maldovar?“ Vastra asked and Dorium gave a wary smile:

“He is a thief, a killer and utterly mad.“

——

The TARDIS

“Do you always leave the door open like that? Anyone could wander in.“ The Doctor found the Master leaning against the console as she reached the control room. Dark hair and beard, stout frame, he hadn’t regenerated, just looked a little worse for wear.

“Master…“ Her voice was barely above a whisper. All sorts of emotions boiled up in her: Disbelief at finding him alive. Worry for having him inside her TARDIS. Hate for all the things he had put her through.

“Hello, Doctor.“ He smirked pushing off the console to step closer. “Nice of you to finally show up.“

“How are you not dead?“ It was the most prominent question on the Doctor’s mind.

“Dying is for other people, dear.“ The Master laughed at how ridiculous that notion was.

“How did you survive the death particle?“ She pressed through gritted teeth as they started circling each other slowly. She was assessing her option for subduing him.

“Did you really think the Cyberium would let its host die?“ The Master’s grin was patronising, as if the answer had been obvious.

“Is it still inside you?“ The Doctor hadn’t even thought about the Cybermen AI that resided inside the Master. She had assumed it dealt with, just like the Master themselves but she should have known they wouldn’t be that easily destroyed.

“Nah… Fizzled out.“ He gave a dismissive wave with his hand. “The effort of creating a force field to protect me was a bit much… Plus, I expelled it and electrocuted it until it stopped moving. I was getting fed up of sharing my memory space.“ He snickered and the Doctor couldn't help but feel a little relieved; one thing she didn’t have to deal with at least.

“You’ve been here this entire time?“ She questioned.

“Where was I gonna go? I destroyed everything! No TARDISes, no space ships left… I did start fixing up a TARDIS but turns out your death particle wiped out the organic components in there as well. I’d have to grow a new one but where to start when every living thing has been destroyed!“ He started rambling in a maniacal sort of way, snapping with increasing anger.

“How long has it been?“ The Doctor asked, hoping he had at least suffered in the meantime. She wasn’t proud of it but after everything he had done to her, she felt he deserved it.

“Oh… a few years, blink of an eye. Ten, twenty? Not sure. Anyway, nice of you to turn up.“ He smirked and his eyes flickered to her reaching for something on the console. “Oh no, you don’t!“ He snapped and pointed the Doctor’s own sonic at her. That’s when she remembered leaving her coat; what a stupid thing to do. And to leave the door unlocked… “So why are you here, Doctor?“ He asked as she raised her hands appeasingly.

“To see if you’re still alive.“ She answered slowly.

“Well I am. What difference does it make to you?“ He snarled.

“And you haven’t left Gallifrey?“ She carried on, hoping to at least get her answers.

“I already told you, are you going soft in the head?“ He snapped.

The Doctor remained silent, unsure how to respond. Should she believe him? Did he have reason to lie? But why would he be back here if he had managed to escape in the meantime?

“And what’s this, Doctor?“ The Master demanded her attention again and held out another item he had found in the pocket of her coat: the green prayer leaf.

“Give that back.“ The Doctor exclaimed, quick to anger. She tried to snatch it off him but he pulled away, putting the sonic between them again.

“Oh, is it personal by any chance?“ He hummed, delighted.

“Give it here.“ The Doctor’s voice turned low and threatening. In her mind, she ran through the possibilities of what the Master could do with her sonic in here. There was so much sensitive technology, a blast at the wrong thing and they could either be thrown into the vortex or explode.

“A prayer leaf from the Gamma Forests if I’m not mistaken… traditional gift for a child… tell me, Doctor, are congratulations in order?“ The Master was quick on his feet as always.

“That’s none of your business.“ The Doctor bit back.

“I take that as a yes. But where is the little devil? And where is the wife?“ He asked feigning surprise. “I presume it is the Professor’s child, isn’t it? Not a little bastard born out of wedlock?“

“Hand that over.“ The Doctor demanded again, holding her hand out.

“No, I think I’ll keep it for the time being. Return it to the little one myself… Like Maleficent taking a gift to little Aurora. Why don’t we go see them.“ He suggested circling around towards the console but the Doctor didn’t move away, instead she stepped right up to him. “Come on, Doctor, I know how much you like your Disney movies. That was funny.“

“Where is he?“ She demanded to know, ignoring his giggling.

“Who?“ The Master frowned.

“My son!“ The Doctor practically yelled, losing her temper at last.

“Ohhh so he is missing? Let me guess, someone took him while you weren’t looking?“ The Master grinned and the Doctor couldn’t tell whether he was pretending not to know anything or if he really didn’t. “Was he getting ice cream across the street and a stranger snatching him away?“

“Don’t play dumb with me, Dorium saw you, you have something to do with this!“ The Doctor wasn’t thinking now. Anger and pain were overshadowing her rational thoughts.

“Dorium? Doesn’t ring a bell…“ The Master shrugged, unimpressed.

“You told him about the Timeless Child, that’s how this whole thing started!“ The Doctor yelled and gave him a shove.

“The Timeless Child? Why would I tell anyone about that dirty secret? Give you all that power? Elevate you? I don’t think so, that secret died with the Time Lords and it’ll die with you.“ The Master spat, suddenly furious as well. They were done doing their dance and playing games.

“You and me are the only people who know about it and I sure as hell haven’t told anyone!“ The Doctor snarled stepping into his personal space again. She wasn’t scared of him anymore. He had no power over her.

“Why would I tell anyone?“ The Master seemed genuinely disbelieving of her accusations. “I killed everyone that could possibly have known about it. And I’m gonna kill you, too.“ He jabbed his finger at her.

“You just try.“ The Doctor pressed through gritted teeth. “Where is my son?!“ She shoved him again and he stumbled backward.

“I haven’t got the faintest idea.“ The Master laughed and the Doctor could tell he was speaking the truth. It threw her for a moment, until a more horrifying idea occurred to her: What if she was just enabling this whole series of events to start? What if she was the reason the Master managed to get off Gallifrey? What if this was how he found out about her child, about Dorium, about the whole thing?

So, just to clarify, the Thirteen (well their previous regenerations), plays a huge part in the Eighth Doctor's audios but you really don't have to know them to (hopefully) follow this story. I fully intend to write it like he's a new character and weave all the information necessary into the plot as everyone else, the Paternoster Gang in particular, learn about him. Originally, I intended to just use Time Lord OCs but as I thought about it, I realised how pointless that would be seeing as there are so many interesting Time Lords in the extended canon. So, if anything is difficult to follow, please let me know! <3

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sharp-cheekbones-locked · 6 years ago

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My Doctor Who calendar

A/N: I decided to do a advent calendar about Tenth Doctor an my OC Stella this year. Every day a new chapter. Feel free to reblog.

Summary: Accompany my OC Stella and the tenth Doctor throughout the Advent season. Christmas is celebrated differently all over the universe. Some new Christmas customs are brought to light. But how does Christmas go with a portion of aliens, a good piece of Doctor and Stella and a teeny pinch of love that makes a big spark? Will The Doctor give in to his feelings in the end? It's the time of love. Every day a new sweet chapter. Accompany the two on their adventures through time and space.

Soho Square, District of Soho, 51° 31′ N , 0° 7′ W London, United Kingdom

December 1st 2019; 4.29pm

I looked up into the grey, cloudy sky and sighed, pulling my cap deeper into my face and also adjusting my scarf. The Doctor ran beside me over the almost black asphalt and gave me a questioning look. His hands are in his trouser pockets to protect them from the biting winter wind of London. The wind played with his hair and also with me some blond strands got lost again and again in the face which I pushed energetically with deaf fingertips behind my ear. The Doctor pulled his shoulders up so that he could counteract the cold. His gaze, however, remained steadfast on me.

I trembled, while talking I tried hard to suppress the rattling of my teeth.

"It's the first of December, the first of Advent, and it doesn't seem so." Checking, the Doctor's eyes glided over the grey of the sky, as if searching for something specific. He stuck out his tongue so he could taste the air better.

"Naah. You're probably right. There's no snow today," he replied and shook his head.

"Too bad... This year it will be probably again nothing with white Christmas, don't you mean? The Doctor only shrugged his shoulders, but then his eyes began to sparkle and a warm grin drew on his lips.

He freed his hand from the warmth of his trouser pocket, then held it up to me with a challenge, wiggling his fingers. Hesitantly I put my hand into his, then I looked at him expectantly. He winked at me and pulled me through the streets of London back to the TARDIS.

"Isn't snow just something great? This fine structure of frozen water molecules. Simply unbelievable! Did you know that the hexagonal basic shape is created because the water molecules form a special structure at this temperature, which consists exclusively of -120 degrees and -60 degrees angles? This is true art? I mean, why these two angles? I was on the planet of Warx once. Half fish, half human. They had snowflakes of all shapes, because they make them by hand. Or wait - probably by fin. Hm, actually quite admirable that they make something so filigree with fins." I looked at him in amazement as he suddenly paused and his steps slowed down.

"But what do fish people need snow for," I asked. We looked each other in the eye for a few seconds and then we snorted off.

"I don't have the slightest clue," he said laughing. Gasping for air I leaned against the wall behind me. Surprised my fingers felt the rough blue painted wood of the TARDIS. We had already arrived. The Doctor unlocked the door.

"Always walking into the good room." I followed him inside the TARDIS. Immediately I felt warmth returning to my deaf limbs. My toes began to tingle and my cheeks also glowed. The Doctor was already concentrated on the console of the TARDIS and flipped some switches and levers. Before I could even ask where and when we were going, he put the final lever on and the typical pumping and sighing of the TARDIS sounded around me. A jolt shook me as we travelled through the vortex. Suddenly it was quiet. The Tardis and thus also we had come to a standstill. The Doctor grinned at me and his brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Go put on something warm! He ordered me. I didn't ask any more, but disappeared into the corridors of the TARDIS in search of warm clothes.

A few minutes later I returned to the control room thickly packed. The Doctor looked like always. He began to smile when he saw me.

"I look like a Michelin man." I snorted and saw the Doctor with difficulty holding back a laugh. Finally he seemed to catch himself and put his hand on the door handle.

Somewhere on a hill, 33840° 37′ N , 1772° 888′ W Snowmania, Rigil Kentaurus, Galaxy 1.4-Apple

December 1st 2144; 7.13PM in human calendar and time

"Allons-y."

The door swung open and I saw nothing but sparkling white that stretched to the horizon. A white desert. A cold gust of wind swept through the tardis and bit my cheeks. I stood astonished in the door frame of the TARDIS.

"At last. Snow! Isn't it beautiful?" the Doctor exclaimed delightedly and hopped into the white crystalline mass. His shoes sank down to his ankles. I still stood there, frozen, watching the snowflakes dancing silently across the sky and falling to the ground with a soft crackle. The Doctor had already taken a few steps before turning to me.

"Come on, Stella! What are you waiting for? Come out into the snow with me." He beamed at me and I couldn't do anything else. I ran out into the snow. He creaked under my footsteps and my breath beat little clouds in the air. Unbelieving I turned in a circle and rejoiced like a little child.

"Wuhuuu." I exclaimed loudly. Then I let myself fall into the snow and made a snow angel overjoyed. The Doctor, who until then had only observed me silently, took a few steps towards me.

"Is this the first time you've seen snow?" he asked jokingly and I stuck my tongue out at him. Snowflakes had got caught in his brown hair.

"I can't believe it's really snowing. This is the most beautiful place I've ever been. Nothing but snow. Only snow! Only blank white snow everywhere." I stared up into the grey sky, from which snowflakes were falling all the time. The Doctor mumbles something that sounded very much like "Then I could have saved myself everything else...", but fell silent when I looked at him questioningly.

I straightened up and knocked the rest of the snow off my clothes, then I looked at the Time Lord next to me in a challenging way.

"Let's see which one of us can catch more snowflakes with his tongue! Immediately a fierce competition broke out between us. The big flakes were easy to catch with the tongue, but the Doctor seemed to have his problems. Some landed on the tip of his nose, others got caught in his eyelashes and eyebrows.

"Catching snowflakes with your tongue is harder than it looks," he said at a glance. We looked up into the sky and tried to catch the snowflakes. None of us looked down, so it didn't take long for us to hit each other. Surprised we tumbled through the snow. Laughing we remained lying, but suddenly a snowball caught me on the shoulder, when I turned to the Doctor, he grinned mischievously at me and was already forming the next snowball.

"Oh, you've been messing with the wrong one, Time Lord!" I replied and reached into the snow to form a ball.

The Doctor announced "Snowball Battle" and jumped up. We fired long snowballs at each other until snow caught in my neck and ran coldly down my back. I breathed heavily and my cheeks glowed.

"Ok, ok. Time out. You won, oh great Snow Lord." I laughed and raised my hands surrendering. Also the Doctor was out of breath.

We trudged together through the snow and shone with the crackling of the white flakes as we walked through the endless hilly landscape. Suddenly I began to hum.

"Do you wanna build a snow man" I sang quietly.

"No way," the Doctor replied, but I was already at work. I rolled several balls and once the lowest ball was too heavy for me alone.

"Come on, give me a hand" I groaned under the load. The Doctor hurried to help me and together we put the snowman together.

"We should brew him a partner, so that he is not so alone. I announced, after I had examined our work in detail. While we were busy forming new balls, something was moving in the corner of my eye. I looked up in amazement and noticed that the snowman had begun to move. I pushed the Doctor's elbow into the ribs.

"Ouch. What is denn- Oh. Oooh. Fascinating," he said with a glance at the snowman who was now forming a new ball and building a smaller snowman. When he saw us, he winked at us and waved with his stick arm. Suddenly our snow woman and the little snow boy came to life. They both hurried towards the first snowman who embraced them.

"How beautiful. A snow family," I whispered touched. "Let's build another one."

The Doctor agreed. We rolled the ball down the slope, but it became faster and faster, so we had to run after it. I stumbled and the Doctor fell over me and we rolled down the slope together, where we remained in the previously formed ball. The Doctor lay heavy on me and looked at me. My gaze found his and his warm eyes wandered back and forth between my and my cold lips. "You are sweet when you freeze" he said and plucked a flake out of my hair. For a second it looked as if he wanted to kiss me, so close were his lips to mine. I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks, but then he shook his head almost imperceptibly and got up. Before he offered me a hand, he knocked the snow off his body. I was confused, but tried to cover up the situation. I probably imagined it all.

"I didn't feel my legs," I mumbled and trembled. "There's so much snow in my shoes." I missed the Doctor's warmth. At the top of the slope stood the snow family with growth. Twins. Uncertain, the Doctor took another step towards me before he embraced me and pressed me. I sighed comfortably and felt his breath blowing over my ear.

"You are like a heater," I murmured. The Doctor laughed quietly.

"What do you think of a warm cocoa in the Tardis?" he mumbled quietly.

"Sounds wonderful."

When we returned to the Tardis, the snowmen waved goodbye. But I had buried my face in the Doctor's neck bend while preparing these two cups of steaming cocoa so I couldn't see it anymore.

A/N: I am not sure if everybody knows what a so-called „Michelin-Männchen“ is. Just google it. It’s a common phrase in Germany, when you feel fat, because of all the layers of cloth.

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