Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Rose knows the voice, even though she’s never heard it before. She looks up from the tea she’s been sipping for twenty minutes, cold now, to see a man with wild grey hair and piercing eyes slip into the chair across from her.

“Hello Doctor,” she says softly, the hint of a smile flitting at her lips.

If he’s surprised to be recognized in his new body he doesn’t show it. “Hello Rose.” There’s a tone in his voice she’s never heard before, a warmth that feels somehow new. Maybe it’s just the Scottish accent. She tucks the thought away to examine later.

“If you’ve been waiting for me how come my tea’s gone cold?” she teases, reaching across the tiny table to fold a hand into his. Should it be this easy to step into old habits with him? Somehow she knows the Doctor she’s looking at is much older than the Doctor she’s looking for. Centuries older. It’s the eyes, she decides. Those eyes have seen--

Rose’s thoughts are interrupted by a gangly twenty-something boy with floppy black hair that keeps falling into his eyes. “I loved yesterday’s lecture, Professor. I can’t get it out of my head, actually. Do you really believe time travel is possible? And we could achieve it someday?”

The Doctor levels a serious gaze at the young man. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. What do you think, Mr. Jossen?”

Jossen appears to struggle with first his thoughts, then his words. Finally he says, “I’m not sure what I believe, Professor. But I hope it’s true. There’s a whole universe of possibilities out there, just waiting to be explored.”

The Doctor winks at Rose. “Right you are, Mr. Jossen. Right you are.” He nods at the boy, then adds, “I’ll see you in class on Monday. Don’t forget to do your reading.”

“Of course, Professor. Sorry to interrupt your, uh…” He looks from Rose, to the Doctor, to their entwined hands on the tabletop, then finishes with a slight blush on his cheeks, “I’m just sorry to interrupt.” He flees.

Rose lets go her giggles as soon as the young man is out of earshot. “Alright. For one, you didn’t have to torture him like that. And two, you’re a teacher now? At a university ? How did that happen? I’ve seen wonders, but this…” She grins, clearly both mystified and at ease.

“That? That wasn’t torture, just a bit of fun. Jossen can handle it. And he needs some discomfort now and again. He’s headed for big things, that one.” She recognizes the far off look in his eye, the one he gets when he’s living things that haven’t happened yet. She gives him a moment, then taps leg of the table with her toe. He snaps back to the present with a blink. “Right. As for the rest--” He gestures expansively about, an all-encompassing type of gesture. “It’s really too much to go in to at the moment. We just haven’t got the time, I’m afraid.”

Rose hears the ticking sound in her ears--the one that’s been following her ever since she started traveling with the dimension cannon--grow slightly louder. She pushes it back; she’s with her Doctor, and will not let herself panic.

“Nardole is down guarding the Vault so that’s no worry, and--” The Doctor stops, biting back whatever he’d been about to say. “Well, that’s nothing to be going on about right now. The point is, I myself have got loads of time. But you,” he points at Rose, then at her wrist, “have only got about five minutes, yeah?”

Rose goes lightheaded, and the ticking sound drowns out every other noise around her. But then the Doctor is there, holding her in his arms and murmuring into her hair. When she opens her eyes she sees the underside of the table and realizes she must have slid off her chair. “Wha happen?” she says. Her head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton.

“What happened,” the Doctor says drily, “is you used up 86 seconds of our time together passing out.” He brushes a kiss against her forehead and adds, in a much gentler tone, “Are you alright, love? I know this dimension-hopping takes its toll.”

Sinking deeper into him she says, “I’m alright, Doctor. For the next three minutes anyway.”

The Doctor’s voice grows serious. “Rose, I need you to hear me. I imagine you’re getting these things out of order, but you’re clever. You’ll get it right in the end.” He kisses her again, this time on her mouth. “Alright, Rose?”

Rose nods, then buries her face in his neck. Those eyes, she can’t bear to see the look in those eyes.

“No, Rose, I need you to look at me.” His voice is so raw she can’t help but look up. She bites her lip to keep herself from crying out.

“Listen for the Wolf, Rose. Everything depends on it. Everything.”

She shivers. She’d heard the capital letter in his voice.

“I’ll listen, Doctor. Promise.”

And suddenly she’s aware of the ticking again, feels the moments running through her fingers, and she tries to grasp just one to hold onto, to keep for herself.

“Doctor?” She sits in front of him, the stones of the courtyard biting into her knees. Ignoring the pain she smiles up at him through her lashes, her tongue poking at the edge of her smile just so.

“Rose?” She hears the catch in his voice.

She kisses him softly on his lips. “I love the accent.”

There is just enough time to see his look of astonishment and pleasure before the dimension cannon pulls at her middle and she is gone.

Chapter Text

“Oh!”

It’s not a cry but a gasp, barely more than a breath. To see the Doctor like this again…

She stands in the shadows, chewing on her lower lip, wondering if she should go talk to him. Surely he’ll immediately know her for an older version of his Rose. He’ll have so many questions. Questions she couldn’t--or shouldn’t--answer.

But she misses his smile, his laugh, his palm against her own. Even a little while would be worth tap dancing around a few questions. Wouldn’t it?

He’s alone, walking up the steps to the National Gallery, leather jacket flapping behind him. She thinks she actually remembers this day--she spent the afternoon with her mum and when they met up in the evening he spent 45 minutes rambling on about van Gogh’s Sunflowers.

So she wonders: did he ramble on about the painting because he didn’t want her to know he saw a later version of her? Or does he really just like the painting that much? Then she laughs. Of course he likes the painting that much. The Doctor is passionate and enthusiastic about everything. Remember when he talked about bananas for three hours straight? Or the two hour lecture on Great Expectations? She laughs more, she can’t help it, forgetting that she’s trying to hide.

The Doctor turns at the sound of her laugh. “Rose? I thought you were…” His voice trails off as she steps out of the shadow of the pillar and he truly sees her. “Ah. I see. You’re Rose, but later.” His voice is guarded, less affectionate than usual. “So I have to wonder two things. How are you here, and why are you here?”

Rose blinks hard and fast, determined to stop any tears before they fill her eyes. It hurts, hearing him talk like this to her, almost like he doesn’t trust her, after everything they’ve been through together.

Before she can say anything he continues. “Did I send you? That doesn’t seem quite right, I don’t feel another TARDIS about. Was it Jack? I hope not, those vortex manipulators are—“

“Stop interrogating me!” Rose bursts out. The tears she’s been trying so hard to contain overflow. “Can’t I just be happy to see you?” Eyes wide, she claps a hand over her mouth.

And now there’s a look on his face she never wants to see again. Is it sympathy? Pity? She can’t quite name it, but she wants to ease it, and quickly. “It’s just…” She touches his cheek with the fingertips of one hand, the kiss of a butterfly. “Your face changes. I got used to it--it’s still you under the new hair and cheeky grin--but…” She takes a calming breath, then smiles. It’s a shaky smile, but it’s true. Slipping a hand into his, she says simply, “It’s good to see you.”

He squeezes her hand and smiles back at her, the first smile she’s seen on this face in far too long. “It’s good to see you too, Rose Tyler.”

Even as her heart lifts she hears the ever-present ticking in her ears. “I haven’t got much time, Doctor. A little less than an hour. But maybe you could show me some of the museum? Van Gogh?”

He grins. “That’s just where I was headed. Fantastic!” He tugs her toward the doors, chattering as they go. “Did I ever tell you about van Gogh’s Sunflowers?”

She’s nearly overcome by giggles again. Somehow she manages to hold them back, saying instead, “Tell me.”

Chapter Text

Even before she’s fully aware of her surroundings she can smell the salt tang of the sea. Something in her stomach churns; she’s tried to avoid the sea ever since…

No.

This can’t be. Why would the dimension cannon bring her here ?

But she can’t deny it. She’s clearly standing on Bad Wolf Bay.

She’s not on Pete’s World, she’s certain of that. There’s an airplane in the distance, for one thing. But even without that, she’d know. There’s a quality to the air she can’t define but always recognizes, just like she always knows when she’s on her Earth.

And that’s where she is now, on her Earth, standing on the replica of the beach that shattered her heart.

She’s got her fingers wrapped around the dimension cannon before she knows what she’s doing, ready to tear it off and dash it to pieces. All the hurt and anger and frustration she’s been tamping down for so long comes boiling over, and she screams in rage.

At the last moment she stops herself. She can’t destroy her only way home.

And then she shrieks and pulls at her hair. Not home. This universe is her home. This sand sand under her feet, this air she’s breathing, this is where she came from. How could she even think ...

She collapses onto the wet sand, unmindful of the dampness soaking into her jeans.

Her mind is so muddled.

Why is she here ?

. + . + . + . + .

“It’s intuitive,” Mickey says, strapping the contraption to her wrist. “Way better than the old model. This one is linked to you, linked to your mind. Don’t ask me to explain all the sciencey bits--not my my department--but the long and short of it is it’ll learn from you. It’ll respond to your thoughts, to your emotions, to your reactions to the different places you go. It may take awhile, but you’ll find your Doctor. I can just about guarantee it.” He gives her a sideways hug, then a silly grin. “Trust me. I know how single-minded you are about the guy.”

Rose laughs, bumping him with her shoulder. “Thanks, Mick. I--” Her voice breaks; she’s suddenly overcome with emotion. She smiles at him, eyes shiny with tears. “I owe you one.”

“Nah,” he says. “Just find the Doctor and save the multiverse. We’ll call it even.”

. + . + . + . + .

She’s run out of tears. When she wipes her eyes she sees that the tide has risen, is nearly lapping at her feet now. She wonders if this is how Alice felt, crying an ocean into existence. Only Alice was giant, she’s just ordinary. And still her weeping added depth to the sea.

Time passes. She’s been here for nearly two hours. She hardly looks at the cannon for confirmation anymore; sometime in the past months she discovered that she understands the passage of time. She knows how long she’s been in a place, knows how long she has remaining. In the back of her mind she knows this probably isn’t normal, but she has this thing strapped to her wrist, in constant communication with her brain, so she lets these thoughts go.

Rose walks along the shore, deftly avoiding the rising tide, letting the pounding of the waves soothe her troubles away. She can’t understand why the cannon, linked to her mind, would bring her here of all places. Obviously she isn’t going to find the Doctor here. Is she?

She turns, looks at last at the spot she’s been avoiding. She hears the voices in her head like she’s listening to a radio drama, can very nearly see the images shimmering in the air.

“I--I love you.”

“Quite right too.”

She makes a noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

“And I suppose, if it’s my last chance to say it, Rose Tyler--”

Her memory is interrupted by the howl of a wolf.

She starts, looking around, but of course there is no wolf here. That was no ordinary wolf. It didn’t sound in the air around her, but in her mind.

Her shiver has nothing to do with the breeze coming off the sea.

“Listen for the Wolf, Rose. Everything depends on it. Everything.”

She’s surrounded by ghosts.

Chapter Text

She’s leaning against the TARDIS when the Doctor comes strolling up, wild curls tangled by the gusting wind.

“Hello!” The Doctor smiles at her, a warm, open smile. “Are you waiting for me?”

Rose returns his smile. “I am, actually. I wanted to meet you, Doctor.”

He tilts his head, and she can see that she’s examining his memories and her face simultaneously.

“You’ve got me at a disadvantage, I think. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” He takes her hand in his, raises it to brush a soft kiss across her knuckles.

“Rose Tyler,” she says, her breath catching.

“Well met, Rose Tyler.” His smile makes her heart flutter. “And how do you know--” He stops, his eyes fixed on hers.

They remain just as they are, frozen in time, until the Doctor finally blinks, then speaks. “I see something in you.” His voice is low and holds a hint of...something she can’t quite place. Confusion? Longing? But her own mind is jumbled, lost as she is in his gaze.

Her smile is shaky at best. “I--”

“No,” he interrupts, holding up his hands. “Don’t tell me. Please. I can see that our futures are entangled, and I’d...well, I’d like to discover things for myself. I think.” His smile is charming and sincere, and she feels herself relax.

“Alright,” she says. “No details. Although you already know my name. And that I’m from your future. Can I tell you just one more thing? It’s not a spoiler, I promise.”

His eyes dance. “What’s that then, Rose Tyler from the future?”

Her name in his voice does unexpected things to her. Suddenly she’s wishing for more than her allotted forty minutes. The ticking rises in her ears. She ignores it.

“Wait a minute, did you hear that?” The Doctor’s voice bursts into her wandering thoughts.

Rose bites her lip, not wanting to admit she’d been daydreaming about his voice. “Um, hear what?”

“I thought I heard… But it can’t be…” He whirls around around as he speaks, even darting around to check the other side of the TARDIS.

“Doctor, what--”

“The howl of a wolf.”

The hair on Rose’s arms stands up. She hadn’t heard the howl, but she’s sure he had.

“But that’s impossible,” he says, trying to brush it off. “Surely there are no wolves running around in...what city are we in again?”

“Barcelona.” Rose can’t look at him when she says this. Of course this isn’t exactly where the Doctor was going to take her, no dogs with no noses here, but standing in this city with another Doctor…

Rose cries out, a hiccoughing, laughing sob, and she hides her face in her hands.

“It’s alright Rose,” says the Doctor, and then his arms are holding her. It’s a perfect fit, as always, and even though she feels lost, she knows she will someday be found. And right now, in this moment, she is safe.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence Rose says, “Thank you, Doctor. I really needed that. I can’t explain, but someday, a very long time from now, you’ll look back on this moment and you’ll understand.”

He nods with the wisdom of someone who has lived for hundreds of years. “Not at all uncommon in the life of a Time Lord, I’m afraid.”

“How do you get used to it?” she bursts out.

He just looks at her, a bit startled.

She gestures a bit wildly. “All of it. Life out of order. Voices from your past intruding on your present. Every day I feel like there are more ghosts following me. And I…” She hadn’t meant to ask, hadn’t really meant to say any of it, but she finds that now she really wants an answer, so she finishes softly, “And most days I think they know more than I do.”

Clearly torn between helping her and not asking too many questions, he says carefully. “It can make life a bit complicated at times, I’ll admit. But I get by. Most often by not going through it alone.”

“That’s right,” she says, her voice echoing with sadness. She kisses him softly on his cheek, then takes a measured step back. “That’s what you’ve got us humans for.”

He touches his cheek, looks like he’s going to ask a question, then changes his mind. Finally he says, “What were you going to say, before? The non-spoiler one more thing?” He winks.

Rose smiles. She still has a few tears on her cheeks, but she’s feeling a little more like herself. “Just that I’m really, really glad to meet you, Doctor.”

Chapter Text

You’re mad, Rose Tyler.

She wishes shushing that inner voice would work. She knows she’s mad. As soon as she realized where she was she should have run in the opposite direction and spent the rest of her time hiding. Avoiding. She could have caught a movie. She could have had chips. She could have browsed in a book shop--there’s one she misses nearby, and the books on this earth are slightly different from the ones on Pete’s World. There are more than a few she wouldn’t mind taking back with her.

But what is she doing instead? She’s skulking in the shadows again, this time trailing behind the Doctor.

She absolutely cannot go talk with him this time, though. No inner debate necessary. Because this time she’s following herself, too.

Would he be proud of her, knowing he taught her so well? She’s keeping her distance, walking casually, taking time to stop and look into shop windows. A few times she takes out her mobile and chats into it. In short, she looks like a normal person enjoying an afternoon in London.

A normal person who happens to enjoy the shadowy side of the street.

But really, it’s not hard to follow people when you know where they’re going. They are nearly a block ahead of her, but she hears them beside her. She sees them too, the Doctor tugging on the younger Rose’s hand, nearly pulling her off her feet at times.

“You have to hear her,” the Doctor says, two steps ahead of her so she nearly has to run to keep up. “In six years her name will start popping up everywhere, and soon she’ll be all over the world. She’s brilliant, Rose, a true master. She’ll play for presidents and kings! But right now she’s just a little girl who was sent to the park across the street to practice her violin because her mum’s got a headache. So hurry now. It’s not far now. Allons-y!”

It hurts, hearing his voice like this, the pure joy in witnessing a seemingly insignificant moment in time. Almost worse is seeing her own face as she looks at her Doctor.

She hadn’t realized love could be worn so plain.

There are swings in the park, close enough that Rose can see see the trio under the oak tree but too far to hear anything they’re saying. At first she worries she’s too close, but by now the Doctor is too wrapped up in the music to notice anything else. She hopes. As she sways slowly forward and back, dragging her toes through greying wood chips, only the faintest strains of the violin make it to her ears. But she remembers. The small girl, soft brown curls pulled back from her face with blue barrettes, eyes closed and face intense while she plays. The Doctor and herself holding hands, captured by the music. It’s not just the technical precision of the girl’s playing, which is extraordinary in itself. What staggers them is that already, at eight years old, the child plays with a depth of emotion most adults never achieve.

“What’s that you’re playin’?” Rose asks after the last note fades.

The girl looks up, clear blue eyes wide. She’d been lost in the music; she nearly drops her violin but her training holds.

“Sorry!” says Rose. “Didn’t mean to startle you! Your music is so lovely--sad, but lovely--well, I just wondered what it is. I feel I’ve heard it before…”

“You probably have, most grown-ups have done. It’s the theme from Schindler’s List ,” says the girl, surprising Rose with her soft Scottish accent. “My granda asked me to learn it special. He says he’ll tell me when I’m older, but I asked me mam…”

She tells his story, both beautiful and sad, with a Jewish boy who lost everything and the Scottish lad who became his best friend when he’d arrived, all alone, in a small Scottish village. They thought they’d be friends forever, but after only two years the boy had gone away. There where and why was unclear--back to Poland to long lost relatives? Shipped to another foster family? Just...lost?--but he’d never been forgotten.

“The song is sad,” says the girl, “but it makes Granda happy. He loves to hear me play.”

The Doctor squeezes Rose’s hand. “Thank you for letting us listen to you for a bit. I don’t know about Rose here, but it made me happy too.”

Rose watches the Doctor and herself wander away, much more sedate than they’d been on their way to the park. They hadn’t talked much on the walk back to the TARDIS. Rose had been thinking about the Time War. The Doctor doesn’t talk about it much--hardly at all--but she knows it still plagues him. He gets a faraway look in his eyes, faraway and lost, and then suddenly he’s manic, leaping to the console and yammering about where they should go and what they should see and who lives there and…

Rose wipes away the tear that’s left a wet streak on her cheek. “Who’s taking care of him now?” she whispers.

Hands gripping the chains of the swing almost too tightly she pulls herself to her feet. The Doctor and the other Rose are gone, but she’s lost all desire to follow. She can’t look at him from a distance anymore; it’s so much worse than she’d ever imagined to see and not touch. To listen from afar instead of hearing his words whispered in her ear. Her hands sting from the links of the chain, but the ache of emptiness is far worse.

The girl begins to play again, this time something bright and cheerful. Rose walks just a little closer--she’d like to hear a bit better, but doesn’t want to confuse the girl by introducing herself looking exactly like someone she just met.

She knows she’s heard the music before, and more than once. Finally she says aloud, “What is that?”

A boy, maybe ten years old, gives her a superior look from his perch atop a nearby picnic table. “Thought everyone knew that one. We had it in school ages ago. It’s Peter and the Wolf .”

Chapter Text

It’s far too hot for a leather jacket. Rose wearily pulls it off, and the light jumper she’s wearing too. She’s thankful for the tank top, thankful she’s learned the lesson and dresses in layers these days. It’s still boiling in this forest, but at least what breeze there is can reach her skin now.

She wonders where she is. It’s a fairly dense forest, but hilly, and she can see glimpses of water in the distance. Smells a bit salty. Brackish, maybe. The trees--birch, spruce, pine, aspen--are so thick that the air almost looks green. The ground underfoot is springy with fallen needles.

And then Rose looks again. That may look like a birch tree, but it isn’t. Not quite. And the spruce isn’t a spruce, and the pine and the aspen… She closes her eyes to feel the air better. She senses it immediately; this is not earth, not even a parallel one. It’s an alien planet. Peering upward, trying to see the sky through the trees, she grins. No wonder the air seems green--the sky here is, too.

She feels something else in her mind, a familiar hum that has her heart pounding. Scanning the trees and underbrush for anything decidedly out of place she spies it and has to hold herself back from sprinting. The blue of the TARDIS actually blends fairly well in this green semi-twilight, but the sharp angles give her away. When she reaches the timeship she leans her forehead against it and whispers, “I’ve missed you, old girl.”

Pulling her key from its place around her neck, she’s about to put it in the lock when the door opens. “Oh!” says Rose, startled; she drops the key and drops to a crouch to look for it.

“Here,” says a warm female voice, barely a foot from where Rose is searching. She looks up into grey eyes flecked with gold. “You shouldn’t lose this,” says the woman, taking Rose’s hand with one of hers and folding the key into it with the other. “You’re going to need it someday.”

Rose’s skin sings at the contact. She looks at her hand, then up again into those eyes. She knows, but she has to ask.

“Doctor?”

The answering grin is nearly blinding. “Rose.”

“This is...unexpected.”

“Tell me about it. The first day or so I had to keep asking why people were calling me madam.”

Rose laughs, her thoughts whirling. She and the Doctor help each other to stand and Rose is startled to see is nearly eye to eye with the Doctor.

The Doctor takes a step back, hovering in the TARDIS doorway, chewing on her lip. She looks self-conscious, unsure of herself, and Rose is reminded--surprisingly fondly, considering they’d been in peril, as usual--of the day she saw the Doctor regenerate and he asked her how he looked.

Closing the gap between them, Rose puts a finger to the Doctor’s lips. She shivers at the touch, but can’t think about that right now. “You get that from me,” she tells the Doctor, the corner of her mouth turning up in an almost smirk.

“What?” asks the Doctor. Her eyes are wide and innocent.

“I’ve spent loads of time with two of your past selves, and met several others. None of them chewed on their lip when they were nervous. But I do it all the time. You get it from me.”

“I--” starts the Doctor, but before she can get properly going, Rose gasps.

Because now she’s gotten a chance to really look at this new Doctor. Blond hair, nearly the same color eyes, wide smile, similar builds….

“You look like me!”

“It’s been so noted,” she says, her voice dry.

Rose can’t help it. She’s overcome by giggles. “ That is a tone I’ve heard before. Clear blue eyes, Scottish accent? You’re not far from that body, are you. Still got a bit of him shinin’ through at times?”

The Doctor blushes.

“Ooh. I like it when you do that .” Rose says. “I hope I get the chance to make you do it again.”

Their eyes meet, love and hope bound together.

“This is alright, then?” The Doctor gestures at herself.

“You’re my Doctor,” Rose says simply. “I promised you forever, didn’t I? Nothing can ever change that. Nothing.”

“Nothing,” the Doctor echoes.

Rose takes the Doctor’s face in her hands, presses a kiss to her lips.

It is chaste, and soft, and Rose feels it all the way to her toes.

After a moment she says under her breath, “So strange .”

“What?” asks the Doctor. A bit of insecurity flashes back into her eyes.

Rose grins with mischief. “Not having to get on my toes to kiss you.”

She’s barely gotten the words out when the Doctor is kissing her again. And again.

And then she stops and grins. “Alright, as much as I’d like to do that all day, I’m sure you’ve realized you’re here for a reason, that I’ve got something to tell you.” She takes Rose’s hands in hers, their foreheads almost touching.

Rose nods. “I’ve been listenin’. Though I don’t understand. Not really.”

“You will. I believe in you, Rose.”

It’s Rose’s turn to blush.

“It’s an easy one this time.” The Doctor smiles, and Rose’s insides melt a little more. “It’s just this: don’t be afraid. You’ve got some tough times coming, but you are so strong, Rose. And good things are coming too. And if you do happen to feel a little fear...well, just use it to make you stronger. Keep going.”

“I’ll always keep going,” Rose says. Forever .

“I know.”

The Doctor nods toward the forest, towards the bit of water through the trees. Wordlessly they begin to walk, hand in hand.

“I only have 27 minutes left.”

“I know.”

Rose looks at her Doctor, exasperated but with laughing eyes. “Have you been watching Star Wars again? Because I swear, if I say I love you and--”

“I love you too, Rose.”

Chapter Text

This time it’s sound that alerts her to where she is; as soon as she hears the unceasing waves she knows she’s on Bad Wolf Bay again.

She doesn’t scream or tear at the dimension cannon. Time is hurtling her toward something--not here on the beach, but toward some inevitable and possibly cataclysmic conclusion. So she just closes her eyes and lets her keen senses take in her surroundings, because she knows she must be here for a reason.

Earth, but not Pete’s World or her world. Another, then.

Not hot, but warm; warmer than a beach in Norway should be. Especially with wind blowing off of the sea.

Other than the waves, silent. Not a skittering crab or crying gull. Not conclusive, but some other, indefinable, sense tells her she’s right in her guess: this is a dead planet. She shivers.

But she isn’t here to save this broken place. Unless this is another random miss--which she doubts; this place has too much meaning for that--she’s here for another message. The Doctor believes in her, believes she’s clever enough to put it all together, even when she gets things out of order. And she refuses to let her Doctor down.

So she finds a bit of sand relatively free of stones and sits, staring out at the sea. Now that she really looks at it she realizes that the color is a bit off--the water here should be blue-grey or greenish, but this water has a brownish-red tint to it. Her stomach turns over. Somehow the ocean is the color of watery blood. She is suddenly very glad she chose a spot high on the beach to sit. She does not want to touch that water.

She has 47 minutes before the cannon automatically pulls her back to Torchwood. Time to be still and quiet and think . The sound of time passing rises in her ears but she pushes it to the back of her mind; instead she listens to the voices of the Doctor.

I’ve been waiting for you.

Listen for the Wolf, Rose. Everything depends on it. Everything.

It’s good to see you too, Rose Tyler.

Fantastic!

I see something in you.

...our futures are entangled...

It’s not far now. Allons-y!

Thank you for letting us listen to you for a bit.

I believe in you, Rose.

It’s just this: don’t be afraid. You’ve got some tough times coming, but you are so strong, Rose. And good things are coming too. And if you do happen to feel a little fear...well, just use it to make you stronger. Keep going.

“I always keep going,” she says, frustrated. Because she still doesn’t understand. Still can’t make everything connect. There are wolves howling everywhere she goes, but it’s like trying to make pieces from thirteen separate puzzles form a coherent picture.

Then she hears, soft as falling snow,

I love you too, Rose.

And now the Wolf is howling again, louder than Rose has ever heard before. The hair on the back of her neck stands on end. The eerie note of the howl fades into nothingness, but Rose can feel the Wolf behind her. Suddenly a voice fills every bit of her, a voice almost like a howl in itself--a howling wolf, cymbals crashing, lightning splitting a thousand-year-old tree in two.

Run, Rose. Run!

She claps hands over her ears, but it doesn’t matter, because the voice isn’t in the air, it sounds within her mind.

“Stop! Please, stop!” she cries, tears coursing down her cheeks.

It’s almost time to run, Rose. Be ready.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Rose makes a note that the voice, painful as it is, is familiar. But how could she recognize a voice that makes her wish she could turn off her brain’s ability to register sound?

The next words, although still painful, are distant, as if the Wolf is sprinting down the beach and calling to Rose over her shoulder.

It can be done, if you are fast enough.

And Rose is pulled away--back to Torchwood, back to another world. Her breath leaves her in a gasp.

Time had surprised her.

She’d thought that impossible.

Chapter Text

Rose isn’t sure where she is. It’s not that her surroundings are unfamiliar, rather that she’s hopped into a rainstorm so heavy she can’t see past her outstretched hands.

Actually, she can’t see her outstretched hands, either.

“This is ridiculous,” she says, unable to hear her own voice over the roar of water in her ears. She can’t even use the emergency override to go back to Torchwood until the cannon has half an hour to recharge, and there are still twenty-four minutes until then. She certainly isn’t staying the full three hours this hop had been set for. Trying futilely to keep the deluge out of her eyes and nose and mouth she winces. Drowning seems like a real possibility if she can’t find shelter soon.

Almost as soon as she has the thought her outstretched palms strike something hard and smooth; thankfully she has the reflexes to stop herself before her face has the same pleasure. Pulling away the hair that’s plastered to her face she squints upward, hoping to find a balcony or awning blocking the rain but there’s nothing, nothing but fat raindrops and a hint of roiling clouds far above. And then she realizes: she can see the rain pouring down, but nothing is hitting her face. How is that possible? She looks more closely at what she’s standing against and almost laughs.

She’s huddled against the front doors of the TARDIS.

“Thanks, old girl,” she says, leaning her forehead against the worn wood. “You could sense me out here, and shared a bit of your protection. You never stop saving me, do you.”

She feels the answering hum in the back of her mind, comforting and amused.

Grinning, she reaches for her key, but before she’s even halfway to it the door is thrown open and a man pops out. His eyes widen in surprise and delight.

“Rose! I thought you…well, nevermind. Come in, come in, get out of this rain. Can hardly call this rain, can we. Cats and dogs, this. Better get inside before it starts to meow!”

Inside, the man tosses Rose a towel and she begins to dry her hair. She gets a better look at him in the process, this man she has no doubt is the Doctor. Light brown hair flopping over his eyes, tweed jacket, bow tie. He walks around the console poking at things, surreptitiously watching her dry her hair.

After a minute of silence he bounds over to her, tweaking her sleeve. “I love the jacket, Rose. Amy!” It takes a moment before she realizes that this last had been directed at someone else, and by then he’s gone on. “..should come see Rose’s…” And this his words trail off, and his expression changes in some subtle way Rose can’t define. “Nevermind. We’re at this bit. Hold on, got to get my lines right.” He offers Rose a smile, then tries to look serious. She doesn’t think it’s a look this particular face uses very often.

“I’m the Doctor, by the way,” he says, the silly grin slipping back onto his face.

“I got that,” says Rose, and she can’t help but smile back at him. “You couldn’t possibly be anyone else. Always with the questionable fashion choices.”

He looks affronted, tugging on the lapels of his jacket. “What’s that supposed to mean? I wear bowties now, bowties are cool.”

“Right,” says Rose. She manages to hold it in for three seconds, then she bursts out laughing.

“Some things never change,” he mutters.

Something flutters in her chest at that. Memories wash over her, not of this face, but of laughing with the Doctor. He looks at her with an odd look in his eye, and she quiets.

“You had something to say?” she says.

He stands tall, straightens his bowtie. “Right.” He grins again, rubbing his hands together. “This is fun, having memorization and giving a performance. It’s like I’m in a panto.”

“Doctor! I’m pretty sure this is important! The others said so, anyway.”

He looks confused. “The others? But that doesn’t make any sense, I should be...oh, but don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. It’s all wibbly-wobbly anyway. I’d probably end up causing all sorts of trouble if I kept asking quest--”

“Doctor!”

She can’t get a grip on this Doctor; he slips through her fingers like falling rain. He flits around like a butterfly, all grins and giggles, but he hasn’t even tried to touch her yet (she doesn’t count touching her sleeve). He keeps talking to her as if she’s supposed to understand the unspoken half of the conversation. And he seems to be allergic to serious conversation. She’d like to put a hand on his cheek, ask him what happened, but she doesn’t want to risk him not answering.

“Right, right, important, lines, lives in peril, universes hanging in the balance…”

“Doctor!”

Chastised, he straightens his already perfect bowtie again.

With a deep breath--and arms gesturing dramatically--he declaims, “When you find me--the earlier, skinnier me--run fast. Fast as you can. Drop whatever you’re carrying and run.”

Slumping against the console, Rose sighs. “It’s mostly the same thing, over and over. Run. The drop whatever I’m carrying is new, though. I don’t carry things when I hop, not ever. I don’t…”

And then the Doctor is there, and the odd tension she’s felt since she stepped through the TARDIS doors disappears when he puts his arms around her. She sinks into his embrace, and his familiar scent comforts her as much as his touch.

“Rose, Rose,” he murmurs into her hair. “It’s alright. It’s not going to be easy, but,” he tilts her face up to his and looks deep into her eyes, “it’s going to be okay. And you won’t have to go through it alone. I promise.”

His breath in her hair, his finger against her chin, his body pressed against hers, all of it reassures her.

“I just miss you, Doctor,” she whispers.

“You’re almost there, Rose Tyler. Almost there.”

He glances over her shoulder and says, “Rain’s still pouring down out there. I could make you some tea before you have to go?”

What she wants is to stay exactly right here, but she nods anyway. “Tea, and maybe some dry clothes? Got any of my old things around anywhere?”

Again she sees an odd look cross his face, but in a blink it’s gone, replaced by glee. “Got something better! Stand riiiiight--” he holds her shoulders, moves her gently, positions her in a seemingly random spot on the console room floor, “here.” He grins, flips a toggle on the console, and she’s enveloped by soothing heat, and just like that she’s dry.

“Brilliant!” Rose says, and she reaches out to find her Doctor’s hand.

Chapter Text

She stands in the war-torn road, staring at the beacon of hope that is the TARDIS, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. Finding Donna, navigating the alternate timeline, working with this Earth’s Torchwood--all of it led Rose right here, to this moment, to her Doctor. She can barely contain her nervous energy; this is her Doctor, and this is the right time, and she is never, ever going to leave him again.

And then, in the midst of her euphoria, she hears the Doctor again.

When you find me--the earlier, skinnier me--run fast. Fast as you can. Drop whatever you’re carrying and run.

She nearly screams. How could she get so caught up in her excitement she’d nearly forgotten everything she’s been repeating in her head over and over for the past several months? And look, she actually is carrying something this time: the giant gun they’d given her to protect herself from the daleks. It’s come in handy, but she trusts the Doctor; she throws it to the ground and runs, sprints , towards the TARDIS.

There he is. The Doctor. Her Doctor. Tears threaten to form in her eyes but she banishes them at once; now is not the time. Later she can hold him and let everything go; now she has to run . He’s running too, grinning and running like a mad fool, and the love between them is nearly visible--a sparking, electric, living thing.

It’s when she sees the dalek that she understands everything.

. + . + . + . + .

Rose opens her eyes, then immediately shuts them again. It should not be daylight. It was only a breath ago she was on a dark street, sprinting toward the Doctor, and now she’s collapsed…

She feels sand under her hands.

Is she really on a beach?

Of course she is. And she knows without looking she’s on Bad Wolf Bay.

You aren’t actually here, you know. You’re still running toward the Doctor, toward love, toward death. But we couldn’t have a conversation there, so I brought part of you here. Don’t worry, you’ll go back the moment you left. It’s only a little sideways slip in time.

The voice has the same awesome power as before, but there is no pain this time.

“How come your voice doesn’t hurt me anymore?” Rose asks, still staring at the sand.

It wouldn’t have hurt you before, but you were too overwhelmed to understand. Now you do.

Wondering how she can be so weary when this isn’t her true body, Rose pulls herself to her feet. She closes her eyes for a moment, gathering herself, then turns to face the Wolf.

She’s not at all surprised to see, not a wolf, but herself.

“I’ve been changing from the beginning, haven’t I. That’s why I can feel time pass, why I can sense the TARDIS with my mind, why I know just by breathing if I’m on my Earth or Pete’s World. It’s not from all the time travel or the dimension cannon. It was you.” Her voice is flat. It isn’t a question.

Yes.

“I could probably do all this stuff before, I just didn’t notice. Too caught up in the Doctor.”

The Wolf just looks at her, unblinking.

“All this time, I’ve felt you chasing at my heels, following me through time, dropping clues about my future and what I’m supposed to do. But really you were...inside me?” Rose isn’t sure how she feels about that.

No!

The answer is emphatic and immediate. Rose winces at the force of the word, but still there is no pain.

No, Rose. You are you and I am me. I exist outside of time, and within the vortex, and everywhere at once. I didn’t leave a part of myself in you, I only changed you. I didn’t mean to, but it seems to be a good thing for the universe. Our paths are crossing now, but you are still Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth, and I am still Bad Wolf. Yes?

Rose exhales, relieved. “Yes.” Then she bites her lip. “But. Before you took me away, I understood. I saw what needs to happen. To save the Doctor, I have to...die.” A tear drops from her eye and traces down her cheek.

Yes.

Rose nods, resolute. “Alright.”

Try to remember everything, Rose. Be fast. Be brave. Be you.

If she didn’t know better, she might almost say the Wolf’s voice had...softened.

They still stand face to face, but Rose can feel herself leaving, going back to her body and her Doctor. “I have so many questions!” she cries, her voice rising in near panic. She is brave, but her stomach has turned to ice thinking about what she must face. If only she could have a few moments more.

Just remember.

The voice is distant now.

And run. In a few moments you’ll be in your Doctor’s arms.

. + . + . + . + .

...not far now…

...been waiting for you…

...don’t be afraid…

...good to see you…

...see something in you…

...going to be okay…

...listen for the Wolf…

...I love you too, Rose…

...going to be okay…

The voices of the Doctor tumble through her mind as she sprints. She’s taken by surprise when she realizes that her legs are more than human as well, and she hasn’t been using them to their full potential either. She puts on a burst of speed, grinning. The Doctor’s eyes widen with his own surprise; she can’t wait to explain everything to him. She nearly stumbles when she remembers--if she’s successful, she won’t be around to explain.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. The Doctor is what matters.

All of this takes just over two seconds.

The dalek screams “Exterminate!” and the Doctor shouts “Rose!” and the two voices could not be more different. Rose leaps at the Doctor and they crash together, her momentum sending them tumbling, and she just has time to think, I made it, I did it, I was fast enough to beat the dalek , when it fires and her back screams in an agony of white hot pain.

. + . + . + . + .

Rose hears voices as if from under water.

“Help me lay her down, Doctor!” That sounds like Jack.

“Rose! Rose, open your eyes! Don’t die, Rose. You can’t, I’ve just got you back. Please, Rose. Please.” That’s the Doctor, his voice in anguish. She can feel his arms around her, his tears on her cheeks.

Rose tries to tell him she’s not dead, that she can hear him, but she can’t seem to make her mouth work. So she just listens.

“Doctor, we saw the flash of her skeleton. A human can’t survive dalek weapons, you know that. You need to say goodbye.” That’s Donna, quiet, sad. She’s comforting him, a true friend.

“I can’t Donna! I just,” his voice breaks, and Rose can hear Donna’s arm wrap around his shoulders as he sobs, “I just got her back. And I never told her I love her. She knows, I know she knows, she has to know, you do know, don’t you, Rose?”

Yes , she shouts, sobs, but she knows it’s only in her mind.

She’s trying so hard to reach out to him in any way she can, to ease his pain, to return his love, that at first she doesn’t notice the pain building up in her body. It starts in her center, a glowing ball of agony, and spreads to every nerve, every cell, until it feels like every bit of her is on fire, splitting apart into a billion, billion pieces.

So this is what it feels like to die , she thinks. And then, I’m glad I’m with you, Doctor.

. + . + . + . + .

Rose sits up and opens her eyes.

The Doctor, Donna, and Jack all stare back at her with varying degrees of shock and astonishment on their faces.

She wiggles her toes, blinks her eyes, wrinkles her nose.

“How is this possible?” she says. “I died.”

“Not exactly,” says Jack, drawing out the words. “Doctor, that looked like--”

“Regeneration energy, I know,” interrupts the Doctor. “But that’s impossible.”

Rose claps her hands over her mouth. Regeneration? Bad Wolf said she’d changed, but regeneration ?

“But I still sound like me,” Rose says, trembling slightly. “Do I still look like me?” She’s afraid to hear the answer.

The Doctor smiles and takes her hand. “You look just like Rose Tyler, I promise. But your body is new. Look,” he says, running a finger over the back of her wrist. “Remember that scar you got when we went rock climbing on on Chakbo 7? It’s gone.”

He’s right, her skin is completely clear, even if her hands and arms look just the same.

“I could use a bit of that,” quips Donna. “Got a few scars I’d like to be rid of.”

Rose shudders. “Trust me, you don’t want it.” She looks into the Doctor’s eyes. “How come you never told me it hurts?”

He runs a hand through his hair, grabs the back of his neck. “Didn’t want to worry you.”

She sighs. “It was Bad Wolf. She told me--just before the dalek shot me--that I’ve been changin’ ever since I looked into the heart of the TARDIS, but she never realized how much. I am intimately aware of the passage of time, I can sense a few things about where I am in the multiverse without instruments, a few other things...and apparently I can regenerate. Even I didn’t know that one. I don’t think she did either. Or maybe…” She trails off, remembering…

It’s going to be okay. And you won’t have to go through it alone. I promise.

“Actually, I think maybe she did.” She smiles. “Guess maybe she wanted it to be a surprise. Or maybe she wanted me to figure it out on my own. She was a bit mysterious.”

She looks at the Doctor. “You’re being awfully quiet.” She squeezes his hand. “I don’t really understand this, you know. I hope you’ll help me figure it out. I’m not even sure what I am anymore.” Will you still love this new thing that is me?

The Doctor takes her face in his hands. “You’re Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth, and I’m never, ever letting you go again. The rest,” he shrugs, then grins. “We’ll figure it out together.”

She grins back. “Better with two, yeah?”

“Oh yes.”

He presses a soft kiss to her lips, and for the second time in one day she can feel every cell in her body. This time she feels like she could float away with happiness.

“I love you, Doctor,” she says.

“I love you too, Rose Tyler,” he says. No hesitation this time, only a brilliant smile.

“I do hate to interrupt,” says Jack, “but there’s the dalek threat looming out there. Just thought maybe we’d like to take care of that sometime today. If it’s not too much trouble for you two.”

“For the Doctor and Rose, together in the TARDIS? Not to mention the brilliant Donna Noble and the valliant Captain Jack, and all the rest of our family scattered all over this world? Piece of cake. We’ll whip these daleks into shape, get the earth back to where it belongs, and ride off into the sunset.”

And that is, of course, exactly what they do.

Chapter Text

The Doctor walks into his office, a small smile on his face. He takes off his jacket and slings it onto the waiting coat rack, jingles the sonic screwdrivers in the cup on his desk, unbuttons the top button of his shirt. He steps to the TARDIS in the corner, pushes the door open and leans inside. “I’ve just been to see her,” he shouts, then settles into his desk chair to wait.

It isn’t long before he hears an answer, a muffled voice from deep within the TARDIS. “Did you get it right?”

“Did I get it right,” he grumbles, only loud enough for himself to hear. “Of course I got it right, it was only one line. Ten words. Do you have any idea how much knowledge is inside this brain of mine? A lot more than ten words, I can tell you that. Honestly, did I get it right, she asks…”

“Calm down, Doctor, you’re gonna straighten the curls in your hair,” teases Rose, stepping from the TARDIS into the Doctor’s office. “I wasn’t questioning your intelligence, love. Just askin’ how it went.” She grins. “Besides, you shouldn’t complain. Next time you only get three words. Though if I remember right you go a bit off script…”

The Doctor tries to hold his grumpy face, but it never works for long with Rose. His scowl relaxes into a smile. “There you are,” Rose says, perching herself on his lap. “I knew you were under that frown somewhere.”

He makes a harrumphing noise under his breath, but his eyes are still smiling, so Rose knows she’s won.

He snakes an arm around her, pulling her close. “It was fine. Odd seeing her--you--so young.”

She mock glares at him. “I haven’t aged a bit since then, and you know it!” There have been regenerations, sure--neither of them like to think of them much, because Rose herself is unique, and even after all this time such an unknown--but each time she regenerates looking exactly the same.

“No,” the Doctor says, and the laughter has faded from his eyes. Startled, she nearly falls off his lap, but he catches her.

All these years, and he’s still there to catch me when I fall , she thinks.

“Maybe no one else can see it, but when I look at you I can see the passage of time. It’s your eyes, Rose. Your eyes give you away.”

He’s nearly knocked the breath out of her. They sit for a full minute, lost in each other and in the past. She remembers when they’d first met, so long ago. His eyes had seemed fathomless, and ancient. If some idealistic nineteen year old were to gaze into her eyes, would she look the same way?

Breaking the spell, she pulls the chain she always wears over her head. “Before you forget, put your ring back on.” She slips the silver band off the chain, where it had been keeping her TARDIS key company.

The Doctor slides the ring onto his finger. “Much better. You were right, though, taking it off was a good idea. She would have noticed for sure. She held my hand. I think she was right enamored of me.” He practically preens.

Rose rolls her eyes. “Haven’t I always been, Doctor?”

“You’re far too old to roll your eyes, Rose.”

She sticks out her tongue.

“You know what else she did?”

“I know what you’re going to say. I lived it, remember?”

His smile is positively smug. “She said she loves my accent.”

Rose fights the urge to roll her eyes again. “I tell you how much I love your accent at least once a day, Doctor.”

“Yes, but this was the very first time.” He runs his fingers through his hair in a gesture that both clearly says ‘I’ve still got it’ and is a perfect imitation of his long and stripey days.

“You’re insufferable, you daft old Time Lord,” Rose says, kissing him softly. Even after all this time, his kisses still make her shiver. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“Forever,” he says.

“Forever,” she echoes.