Chapter Text
In a mix of shock, surprise and anticipation, I turn to the Doctor. "Is it where I think we are?"
He is so sure about our whereabouts; he doesn't even have to take out the screwdriver to confirm. With a self-assured nod, he says, "that town, down there, is Paris in 1625. The same day as five years ago, you visited the Cardinal for the first time."
As if the truth wants to carry me right into Paris, an urge lets me take a step forward. Is this a dream? Or, indeed, reality? A million thoughts begin to rush through my head. Chances. Outcomes. Terrifying scenarios. "But Doctor!"
Dusting off his jacket from some debris, he smiles at me. "Do you know what a pocket universe is?"
I stare at him so long that he must think I malfunctioned finally. I want to ask him if he is drunk, deranged, and has regenerated into a madman without changing face, but instead, I ask, "are we talking about some sort of alternate universe?"
"We do," he nods, almost a little proud I can keep up. Pointing at the landscape in front of him, he continues, "this is one. An alternate timeline. Like a copy of the main timeline." His hands move from left to right, like he uses to do when giving lectures in a classroom. "Some people call it multi- or mirror verse."
"I thought those were rumours."
His chin tilts, and he leans in as if letting me in on a well-kept secret. "There are not."
I keep standing on the spot, fixating on the forest ground now, as if my life depends on it. Very slowly I understand what this all means. "Does this mean what I think it means?"
"Depends on what you think." His hands are in his pockets, the red lining of his coat showing, and his lips make him look all smug and all magician.
"A chance," I figure, my eyes looking into the distance again. "How?"
"I'll be honest; those timelines and anomalies are difficult to find. Hard to create, but sometimes things happen, and alternative timelines occur."
Did the Doctor have his hands in play, or was he simply lucky enough to find what was already existent? I'll never know, and why should I ask? "This is not real, isn't it?"
"It is as real as any other timeline, but it has no effect on the main timeline. It's basically a copy, and while the main line of history proceeds into the events that are destined to happen, the alternate lines slowly begin to create an untouched path. Depending on the impact of its intruder. From this day on."
"Intruder?"
He gives me a wide smile. "You. In this reality, you never went looking for me. You never arrived here. This means, in this timeline, everything is still like a blank page. Means there are no fixed points in time yet, and never will, because it is just a copy. There is no other version of you, you could run into. And most important, nothing you can ruin."
"And history?"
"As said, this isn't the main line; it's a thin thread, a vague possibility, unimportant to the rest of the web of time. Whatever happens here or not won't change the stability of the universe or the future of the original timeline. A pocket universe. Whatever you do, and whatever the Cardinal decides to do, will have no effect on the rest. Sure, there are consequences, and human beings will be affected. Beings with emotions and - for this timeline - real lives."
I can only listen to his words while looking at the palace, knowing Armand is not far away. With a lump in my chest, I feel tears forcing their way out.
The dark baritone of the Doctor brings me back, "There are downsides, of course."
Absently I begin to nod. There are always downsides.
"The Tardis crashed, and there was a chance she would have broken into a million pieces. Imagine that mess." He takes a moment to circle the Box, checking for damages, but the blue beauty has only a couple of scratches. Though, one of the lights on the top, illuminating the Police Sign, flickers. Bumping his fist against the frame, it's quickly repaired. Then he joins me, and we observe the city in the distance.
"This, here, is a single chance. When you decide to stay, then there is no going back. The moment the Tardis leaves, I can't come back ever. And you are on your own. If this goes wrong, there is no restart, and you can only run so far as the limits of this planet offers."
I mimic his posture, sliding my hands into the pockets of my jeans. "I would have all the possibilities?"
I can only see him in my peripheral view, but I know he is smiling. "Yes. You are an expert on earth's history by now. If you like, you can crown yourself Queen if you can achieve it. You can introduce modern medicine to this area or discover all those places that have not yet been discovered. Or," he shifts, looking at my profile, "you can go down there and take your chances with him."
My eyes meet his. A hint of fear creeps into me. Besides, this is all I ever wanted; I become aware that this adventure is maybe a tad too big. "What if I fail?"
One hand lands on my shoulder. "Why would you? You've been here before, well not here, but you are getting my drift. I shouldn't give you advice, but … it will help to replay your first few meetings, and then go from there. Also, if you fail in your desires, you're stuck," he says and gives it a dramatic pause, so the seriousness of it all sinks in for me. "If you stay, you'll die here. Be it tomorrow or in decades. Make yourself aware of that."
The Doctor walks back to the Tardis, and after a minute, I follow, finding him in the control room, pushing some destroyed bookshelves to the side.
"Can I ask a question?" He knows I will ask anyway, but for the game's sake, I wait for his approval nod. "Why are you doing this for me?"
I stop him when he is about to speak, "— and don't say, because you are the Doctor."
He makes a snapping sound, giving me a glare before smirking at me. "Because I do understand. The broken heart, the longing. The imprint this man had on you. A long time ago, I had a companion I… held very close to my heart. One day, I lost her. She died, and instead of accepting it, I decided to punch a wall of diamonds for 4.5 billion years to get back to her."
That makes me cock my eyebrows, and I rarely do. "That's dedication."
"Well, I think you would too, but that's nothing you have time for, so I decided to help."
"The Time Lords won't be happy about this, will they?"
"They'll never know. I'll make sure of it," he sounds severe and specific. "It shall be not your concern. You having doubts?"
"What if I have?"
"I'll take you back to the real universe, but then the chance is gone. Forever." Taking a deep breath, he steps to the monitor and presses a single key on the board. "I'll equip you with money, of course, and grounds," he pushes the monitor over, "behind the forest is a manor house; nobody owns it. It's in good condition, and I will provide the papers, for the ownership. With time you will make something out of it."
"How generous."
"Can't let you live like a peasant, can I?"
We both laugh about it.
Suddenly another problem dawns on me. When the Tardis is away, nothing will be translated. I turn in horror to the Doctor. "I… I don't speak french!"
He stares at me for a moment, evaluating the problem, and then reaches into his coat pockets. Fiddling out two small devices, he steps up to me, saying, "about that," and presses them against my temples.
As if hit by a weak electrical shock, I almost sink down on my knees, wincing under the pain radiating through my brain. It only lasts a few seconds. A little dizzy from the procedure, I rub my eyes, unable to talk for a few seconds.
The Doctor looks pleased and lets the devices vanish back into the pockets. "Now you do."
“Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire? Je le fais maintenant?” The sound of my voice, of the words I just said, hit me. “Oh, mon Dieu! I speak french now!”
"Fancy, isn't it?"
"But Doctor, I haven't even told you my decision!"
"Oh, come on! We both know you'll stay."
He knows me too well, and let's be honest, he made me an offer I absolutely can't refuse. "I will."
Clapping his hands loudly, he rubs them, telling me, "then let's get to work!"
"Work? What do you mean?"
"Get your gear and everything you need; I'll take care of the rest. Go, go!"
I hurry through the corridors into my room, where I have lived for the past five years. It's not like I possess much. A few momentos from our trips and adventures. Gifts I received from people we once met. I won't take everything. Then, clothes, of course, which I won't take too many with me, as they have no use here. There are some photographs, on the other hand, I find it too painful to leave them behind. I'll keep them safe and out of sight. I do not possess diaries, and aside it's useless to regret it now, I do. On the other hand, disconnected from the technical advantages of the future, I'll undoubtedly find time to write it down.
Having packed two bigger bags, I go find the cabinet I threw my gear into all those years ago. I never bothered to retrieve them. I find them there as I left them. One set of a simpler setting, a cloak, a rapier, and a hat. Fitting clothes for the time, I will enter. And the other set, a noble musketeer uniform. Dark blue leather, with a white cross. There is also a feminine dress I haven't put there, but I know who has.
Packing it all into the third bag, I find myself standing in my room, taking it all in for the last time. "I'll miss you, you know."
I'll miss you too. Soft vibrations echo through the room. And don't ruin this!
"I won't!" I laugh and drag the bags into the console room. Which already looks way better.
The Doctor comes back from outside, wavering me over, "I organised transport!"
It's a cargo carriage, with a mule in front, let by an old farmer. He eyes the Box and us curiously but says nothing. We throw the bag's onto the loading area, and together we take off toward the manor the Doctor has told me about.
Coming up a long driveway, I see it's a three-storey house built with red bricks. A white, wooden wing door as the entrance and bushes of roses in front. The scent of thyme and lavender hangs in the air.
While we are about to park, I give the Doctor a few, uncertain glances. This? All for me?
"Don't look at me like that! There is nothing bigger in the area!"
"Bigger? This is already huge. How the hell shall I keep this clean?"
"That's such a typical human reaction." He presses some coins into the hand of the farmer and waves him goodbye.
Together we take in the house. It's a little run-down, but it will do.
"There is a nice garden at the back when I am not mistaken, and with a little bit of time and help, money can buy this will be a beautiful and suiting home. And speaking of money…."
The Doctor has also brought a bag. A double leather satchel one would place over the back of a horse. "You'll need this."
Taking it from his hand, I find the bag heavy. In the first satchel, I see a few papers. It's the certificate of ownership for the house and the grounds. I read briefly over it, "Countess of Gallifrey?"
"What?"
It's also filled with vast quantities of livre and gold.
"This should be enough to live a decent life here."
I open the other side and find something I have yet to expect. A pistol. At first, I am irritated, but then I remember. I'll need it soon.
"I think it's loaded," the Doctor quips, seeing me smile at it.
"Is it?"
We share a smile.
"It's getting late, how about you redress, and then we return to the Tardis. There is one other thing I need to give you."
A sudden sadness befalls me, but I try not to show it and nod. The key is in the door's lock, and inside I find old pieces of furniture covered with sheets. Climbing to the second floor, I find the master bedroom, and it all seems as if this place was just created for me. Under the bed, I notice a trunk and put the money there, then I go to redress. Putting on the unfamiliar breeches, the linen shirt and the woollen coat. Somewhere between, I put on the rapier, almost tripping. It's been a while.
At last, I grab the hat and return to the Doctor, who eyes me with amusement and pride.
In the distance, I can see clouds build up; it will soon be dark and will rain. Slowly the memories of this first night return to me.
The Doctor and I walk back to the Tardis. Crickets chirp around us, and the warm air hovers over the city. It's time to make our goodbyes.
"Doctor — "
He pulls me into a hug, my gear rustling, my breath taken away.
"— I'll miss you. I'll never forget this."
My hands come around his back, and I can't help but cry into his shoulder. "Don't stay alone; promise me, you won't."
"I won't." He leans back, taking my face between his hands. "You convinced him once; you'll do it again. You'll figure it out. You'll have that life you always wanted. It won't be easy, and sometimes it will be very boring, but I am sure it will be fantastic."
What if I indeed fail? I ask myself, but I know the answer to the question. If I at least had that one minute I wanted so desperately. "I won't fail."
"That's my girl!" He snaps with one of his fingers in the air, remembering something. "There is something you gonna need. Those are - medically speaking - despicable times."
He holds out the device I once received from the Tardis when Armand was close to dying of Typhus.
"Use it wisely," the Doctor duns me.
I bag it away. "I can never repay you, Doctor."
"You already have; it's me who settles the bill. Also, you must do me a favour."
"Of course!"
"Promise me, you'll make the most of it!"
"I'll promise." I find myself in another hug. I wish this moment would never end because as much as I can't wait to see Armand again and begin this all anew, I know I will miss the Doctor forever. My dearest friend.
"Goodbye, Doctor."
"Goodbye."
The noise the Tardis makes, at this moment, I take it in as much as I can. Because I never gonna hear it again. And when the Box with the Doctor has vanished, I suddenly feel the brutal impact of his absence. I feel like the loneliest person on the planet. There is a difference between travelling this vast universe with someone and standing alone on your home planet.
Just when I am about to panic, someone tucks at my old coat, and I find a young boy looking at me. A familiar, puzzled face.
"Hey," I say, breathing away my pacing heart and the tears that have formed around my eyes. I don't know if the boy notices or if he is simply so considered to ignore it.
"Do you own the house up there?" he asks. How old could he be? 12 at most.
"Yes," I say, and it sounds like a good thing to say. "Yes, it is mine. Why?"
"You moved in recently?"
"Very recently."
I can conclude the young man lives nearby and knows the grounds. Knows it had been deserted for the past years.
"I thought you might need some help with the house then," the boy explains without fear of contact. "My father and I are good with repairing things."
I smile, remembering him when I bought a horse from his family. "I need a horse first, and then why not talk about more work tomorrow," I say, holding out a handful of coins. I have absolutely no idea how much a horse costs.
The boy looks at me, stunned, and takes four coins and leaves me the rest. "I'll be right back!" He runs off, and at some point, he shows up at the house with a horse, including all the needed horse tack.
"It's the best horse my father can offer," he explains. He even has brought a bag of hay, which, he tells me, he'll place in the small barn behind the house for later. I am surprised to find out the home has a barn.
I thank him and request him to come by tomorrow with his father and talk about the help I could need. And I definitely need some.
An hour later, it has become dark, and a soft drip is coming down from the heavens. I need to get going. Mounting my horse, I know it's time to do what I have done all those years ago again.
There, I understand this is not the end.
It's just a brand new beginning.
Fin.