Chapter Text
London early 21st Century. Right time.
No Zeppelins in the sky. Right place.
No sign of that glaringly obvious, yet surprisingly inconspicuous blue box.
Yet.
She had to remind herself of that little word.
But right place and time, that was a start. It wasn't like this technology was exact.
Her previous jumps could attest to that.
Nor were things ever that easy anyway.
Life with him could attest to that.
She didn't really expect to find herself 3 for 3 straight away. She was amazed to even have the right universe this time. Seeing the TARDIS as she landed would have been way too easy, scoring that hat trick was beyond even her luck.
She knew that.
And yet, she couldn't help but hope. Hope, that little but oh so big emotion. She had thought she had lost that along the way. With the things she had seen, the things she had experienced, she had thought even the concept of it was beyond her capabilities now. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't hope she felt, maybe it was just wishful thinking.
That was more likely, the cynic in her thought.
She shook herself from her thoughts and fully took in her surroundings. It was early evening, the sky just beginning to darken and the sun hidden behind the clouds. It was cold, colder than just a normal evening. There was a touch of frost in the air. Probably late winter. She was in an alleyway. She made her way to the opening and took a good look around. She was standing in what looked like a small car park. The yellow markings on the ground told her it was a loading bay.
Strictly drop off only.
She smiled, that was one way of describing how she got here.
There was a big white building in front of her, and other light coloured buildings surrounded her, looking more grey as the sunlight faded. It seemed to be some sort of business district, looking towards the street just down the driveway she could see not many people pottering about. Must be after work hours, she thought to herself. Of course there were many different work hours, lights on in the skyscrapers towering above were proof of that. Offices, she guessed. People working away, living their lives oblivious to what was coming. It always seemed to be the way.
A noise shifted her attention to the building in front of her. A door had opened. A side door, she noted. Someone had come outside. A man. Sandy-haired, average height, lean. He wore a black suit and a white shirt, he pulled at his tie as he stepped outside, loosening it and unbuttoned his top button then breathed out a contented sigh. A packet of cigarettes was pulled from the inside pocket of his jacket.
Just another average man having a smoke break from work.
He sparked up a match and lit his cigarette, his hands shielding the tip from the wind. Then suddenly his eyes shot up and almost immediately his gaze settled on her. She had been standing at the opening to the alleyway she had arrived in, just off to the side against the wall. She was nestled in the shadows, no street lamps nearby to illuminate what the rapidly darkening sky had shrouded. The hair on the back of her neck bristled.
Could he see her?
It shouldn't be possible really. Even if she wasn't cloaked in darkness, even if she was standing slap bang under a giant spotlight, she shouldn't have been noticeable. That was the whole point behind the perception filter.
Maybe not such an average man.
He took a long drag of his cigarette, his eyes narrowing slightly. He walked a few steps forward, towards the end of the path leading to the yellow marked tarmac of the loading bay. His gaze never moving from her direction. The closer he got the clearer she could see him. He was good looking, not much older than her. Maybe 35 at the most. He had an air about him, confident, controlled.
Government, possibly.
The way he moved, the way he walked, even the way he stood; He exuded superiority like he was a puppet master, confidant that he could pull the strings and get everyone dancing to his merry tune. And yet the lines in his cheeks told of a man who smiles a lot.
Big smiles. Big false smiles.
She knew that kind of smile all too well.
Politician, she thought.
Then she noticed his eyes. Brown, deep, and impossibly old. Hidden behind the surface, a maelstrom. Fire and ice and hate and pain. She had seen eyes like that only twice before, the first blue then deep brown, both belonging to the same man.
Definitely not just an average man.
While the Doctor's eyes had also held a warmth of compassion and empathy. The man before her did not show any of that. Instead what she saw were insanity and cold calculation.
A spike of fear shot up her spine.
She had no idea who this man was but at that moment, as their eyes locked across the tarmac, she knew that he was going to do terrible things. Knew he was going to bring about suffering on an unimaginable scale. The itch to do something, to stop him was strong. To take him out now before he could hurt anyone. To prevent the pain that he would inflict. And she sensed he could feel it too. He was looking at her intensely, a calculated look in his eyes.
He was weighing up options, she knew the look. She and her colleagues wore it often.
Was he sizing her up?
Debating on whether she was a threat to him?
She saw him stomp out his cigarette and, with a look of resolve in his eyes, he made his way towards her.
Thoughts raced through her head. A hundred different scenarios played out in her mind.
He could hurt her.
He could kill her.
She could do the same to him.
Would he though?
Would she?
Could she?
At this moment she didn't even know.
She had been taught not to interfere.
During her jumps she had landed in many different places. Different universes. Parallels and bubbles and worlds far removed from the two she knew. World's where the Doctor didn't exist. Where he had never existed. And she saw what would happen to the human race. What would happen without that daft alien to intervene on behalf of the Earth. And it was never good. It was horrifying and haunting. Her first instinct had always been to help. The first few times she had tried, but it was never enough.
She was never enough.
The outcome was always the same. The invaders, the villains, they always won. The human race, the Earth, decimated, enslaved, torn apart and sold for parts. A few times she had come back injured. More than a few if she was honest. The powers that be, her bosses, had tried to convince her to do nothing. Told her it was useless, pointless. They weren't her realities. There was nothing she could do.
She couldn't save them.
Only the Doctor could.
And she was the only hope of finding him. If she died on one of these jumps, then everyone was doomed. She needed to observe but not interact. She needed to stand back and watch the suffering and do nothing to help. Every fibre of her being rejected this notion. It was stupid. It was unfathomable how they could ask this of her. But after her 67th jump and a run-in with a Dalek that left her unconscious for 8 days, she began to see their point. Even if her heart didn't agree. If she didn't get back to the Doctor, her reality, all realities would befall a similar fate. Every being in every universe would cease to be and it would be her fault. So she did as she was asked. It took a while at first, it was not natural to do nothing. But soon she fell into the inaction. It broke her heart of course. It felt like she left a piece of herself behind in each reality. With every jump she felt a little piece of herself die. And maybe that's why she was able to think of killing so easily when she saw this strange man as a threat.
Or maybe that's what she told herself to make herself feel better about how hardened she had become.
He was in front of her now, barely two steps between them. His dark eyes still locked with her own. He was scrutinising her, she could tell. But for what reason, she wasn't sure.
It was he who spoke first, breaking the silence.
"You shouldn't be here."
And somehow she knew he didn't mean right there beside that alleyway.
"Neither should you."
The words coming out before she knew what was happening. So much for observe but don't interact.
He smiled.
Or was that more of a smirk?
There was a sinister edge to it.
"Touché." He replied with a quirk of his eyebrows.
Her watch beeped, making her tear her eyes from his for the first time since she first noticed him. It was time to go. She looked back up and noticed he was looking at her wrist, an unreadable expression on his face. He met her gaze again, breathing out a sigh as he did so.
She felt the familiar tug, the signal that the dimension cannon was ready and about to bring her back. There was mirth dancing in his eyes as he smirked at her.
"To be continued, Rose Tyler."
The smirk only grew as he caught her surprised look before he disappeared completely, or rather she did.
She stood on the platform of Torchwood HQ wondering who this impossible and frightening man was and how he knew her name.