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Multiple trips to the TARDIS' library and seemingly endless cross-referencing all culminated in the moment the large tome slipped from the Doctor's hands and onto the bed. It knocked against Rose’s leg and his eyes automatically moved to her face - still asleep. Since their bonding, his wife had gotten used to him bringing various things into bed with them for when he inevitably got bored while she slept.

“And you couldn’t alert me to this, because …?” he whispered to his ship, voice flat and eyes wide as his brain struggled to assimilate everything he had just read.

There was no answer from the TARDIS, not even a hum of acknowledgement. It figured.

The Doctor scrubbed his hand across his face before leaving the bed, heading straight to the infirmary despite the fact that he was only wearing boxers and a vest. This time he didn’t ask his inconsiderate ship for any assistance, simply pulled up every single file on Rose Marion Tyler that existed, on the TARDIS or not. It only took seconds to hack into Earth hospital files, after all.

Not that they helped much, as the technology used in Rose’s time was appallingly primitive.

“Level five medical garbage,” he muttered to himself, zooming past all of her records. Vaccines, minor illnesses, nothing that gave him a good picture of Rose Marion Tyler before she stepped onto the TARDIS. Which, overall, was a good thing - it meant that she had never been so hurt that she needed a CAT scan or an MRI. It would have just been nice to have the data, what with his near obsessive compulsive desire to have the most complete picture of his wife’s biological history.

It’s as if no one had ever heard of voluntary medical data filing. But so be it. The TARDIS had more than enough base scans, starting from the first moment Rose set foot on the ship. This time he wasn’t going to cut corners like he had before, when he’d looked at just her telepathic centers and absolutely nothing else.

Thinking about the last time he and his wife had been in here, weeks ago, the Doctor opened a new screen to check the progress of the six-dimensional comprehensive deep scan results. They were nearly complete.

A feeling of dread lodged in his stomach.

They should have been finished ages ago. The fact that they weren’t - 

He shook his head, wiping a hand down his face as he swiveled back to the primary view screen. The base scans should be able to offer him an explanation. Would. They would, because he needed to know exactly what was going on.

The TARDIS had automatically compiled all base scans since their last visit, and his previous parameters were still in place, focused solely on what in humans was called the pineal gland. The Doctor wasn’t sure that name quite applied for Rose’s brain anymore - Epiphysis Cerebri seemed like a much more accurate name for her telepathic center, which was still showing slow, incremental growth.

Fingers moving quickly, he navigated away and started gathering new information. Graphs of brain capacity and function, cellular activity and health, levels of all hormones and neurotransmitters and molecules with a special search for anything that wouldn’t normally be found in a 21st century Earth human.

Waiting for the TARDIS to compile all of these graphs felt like torture, even though it took a relatively short amount of time.

And then he had screens and screens of data all vying for his considerable attention and painting a picture that had his hearts going into overdrive, adrenaline throttling through his systems. Terror. Elation. Fear. Hope. All of his emotions were muddled and changing by the nanosecond. Panic was a constant, however.

All of it was so overpowering that the Doctor soon found himself actively fighting his traitorous body as it tried to enter a completely unnecessary healing trance, confused as it was by his sudden inability to keep control of processes that he generally had a tight grip on.

Two hands fell onto his shoulders, shocking him into jumping up, nearly crashing into the infirmary’s computational system. He whirled around to see the confused and frightened face of his bondmate.

“Doctor?” she asked, hesitating.

He wondered how long she had been trying to speak to him, both verbally and through their bond. Covering his face with both hands, he finally got his breathing back in order and his hearts-rate down.

“Sorry,” he finally managed, once he was capable of speech again, though the single word came out hoarse and scratchy.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Rose asked, still not moving, hands fisted at her sides.

Focusing on their connection, he could feel her overwhelming concern … for him. Well, it did make sense in the ironic way these things always tended to. Since she had been asleep when he left her, the Doctor hadn’t put any thought into shielding. All of his emotions must have barreled into her like a freight train. Couldn’t have possibly been a pleasant way to wake up.

Reluctantly he dropped his hands, palms sliding down his face slowly as he gave up their paltry defense.

“Nothing’s wrong per se,” he hedged, wincing as her mental disbelief permeated their link. “It- it’s more complicated than that. It’s-”

He didn’t know how to explain it. His normally ever-present gob seemed to be offline now that he desperately needed it. Telepathic communication seemed to also be out, as his brain was still in the process of resettling from the accidentally self-induced bulldozing of his basic systems.

“It’s what?”

As the Doctor took another deep breath, Rose looked around, seeming to just realize where they were. She must have raced through the TARDIS to get to him in her worry. He felt incredibly guilty.

“It’s something that we would probably be much more comfortable discussing somewhere else,” he decided, scratching the hairs at the nape of his neck and looking down, shocked to realize that he was nearly naked. “Maybe after getting dressed. And a shower. Breakfast. Not in that order!”

Rose sighed and crossed her arms. The Doctor took a moment to notice her clothing, which consisted of a housecoat and slippers, but he couldn’t tell what she had on underneath (if anything).

“And then we’ll talk?” she questioned, both eyebrows raised, getting his mind back on track.

“Yes. Definitely. How does tea in the library sound?”

Her lips were pursed, but she eventually nodded.

“Good. Great! And I- I’m really, truly sorry for worrying you,” he sighed, finally moving forward and wrapping his arms around his impossible wife. It took a few moments before Rose relaxed into the embrace.

“This is about me, isn’t it?” she whispered after a few long, silent moments.

“Shh,” he scolded. “Shower first. Shower, clothes, food, then talking.”

Procrastination really is just a different type of running, and no one knew that better than the Doctor. He also knew that he wasn’t fooling Rose for a moment. Their bond was still wide open, the contents of their impending discussion only hidden due to the fact that it was all categorized in his mind as ‘scientific information’, and therefore held back by one of the many barriers he kept permanently in place so that he wouldn’t inundate his bondmate with headache inducing amounts of information.

“Alright then,” she conceded, “let’s get going.”

The Doctor took her hand as she pulled away, allowing himself to be led through his time ship. In his current, nebulous state he doubted he’d be able to find their room if he tried. He was just grateful that Rose understood that his desire to put off this conversation didn’t mean he wanted to be separated from her in the slightest.

It was funny, sometimes, to imagine that all of the effort he had previously put into studiously trying to not overwhelm her with just how much he wanted to almost always be in her presence had been completely inverted now that all of their cards were forever on the table.

They got into the shower together and he began to wash his wife’s hair as if on auto-pilot, only refocusing on the present moment when feelings of relaxation and contentment began to pierce through the veil of unpleasant emotions tangled across their shared minds. Once the shampoo rinsed away, the Doctor couldn’t stop himself from cupping her face and pulling her into a relatively chaste kiss. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince himself that everything would all truly be alright (for once). Because one thing that had been clear while looking through her scans was that Rose was perfectly healthy. Her life wasn’t threatened in the slightest.

Things were just … different.

Before he was quite ready, they had finished showering, were both fully clothed, somehow tea and toast had been made (though he barely remembered being in the galley), and they had reached the library. Rose immediately sat down on the sofa, a fire already crackling away in the grate. He followed her, taking a large gulp of his beverage the moment he sat down. For all of the time he had spent trying to organize his thoughts, they were still less than refined.

The problem was, despite being bonded and therefore having an intimate knowledge of her thought processes, the Doctor still couldn’t predict how she would react to any of what he’d discovered in the hours his wife had spent sleeping. And despite the fact that she wasn’t actually saying anything, he did know that she was growing more and more impatient by the second.

“Sooo,” he began, hoping that the rest of the words would just happen, as it were, “this is cozy, innit?”

Obviously it didn’t work.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” she suggested.

“Oh, blimey, alright then. Well, billions of years ago, a cataclysmic explosion of a singularity caused what you could refer to as the Big Bang, Event One, or even just ‘creation’. It resulted in a very compact, tiny universe that was very dense and very hot, riddled with dimension pockets and full of space-time anomalies that are now considered exceedingly rare. These were the beginnings of the Dark Times, of which not much is known - time travel so far back was-”

“Doctor,” Rose interrupted, “does this have anything to do with what has you so upset? The, erm, results?”

“Ah, well, no … not as such. I mean, it’s tangentially related to absolutely everything, of course, but it … right, sorry.” He took another sip of tea, followed by a deep breath. The beginning, but not that beginning. “I finally tracked it down. Old texts, ancient, that had descriptions of telepathic marriage bonds. Took ages to find one that sounded right, though. Apparently most ancient Gallifreyans needed to have the assistance of an experienced telepath who specialized in this kind of thing in order to join their minds. Knew that couldn’t be right, so I kept on digging and when I-”

The words were flowing out now, faster than he could keep track of and for once he was aware of just how irrelevant they were. With a huff he stood up and began to pace in front of the fire, hoping that the movement would help.

“Very old, very rare, very specific. That’s what our bond is. There isn’t even a translation for what they called it, the word would be absolutely meaningless to anyone else, anyone who hasn’t experienced it for themselves. It’s the specificity, though, that made me realize that there was much more at work than just your growing telepathic abilities. When I went to the infirmary, it was really a toss up - either I was right or I was wrong and hadn’t found the proper information yet.”

“But you weren’t wrong, were you?” She bit her bottom lip, eyes tracking him as he moved back and forth across the sitting area that for once seemed much too small.

“No,” the Doctor sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “The 6D scans will probably be ready later today, but I didn’t need those. Just different graphs of your base scans to measure different things. The thing is,” he nearly shouted, “if I hadn’t been about to regenerate, and then freshly regenerated, and then unpardonably distracted, I should have done this all ages ago! Quick as I could after I’d taken the Vortex out of you.”

“Think we were a bit busy savin’ the Universe to bother with all that,” Rose pointed out, comfort and understanding passing over to him through their link, along with a few spikes of irritation and general chastisement for pointlessly blaming himself for something yet again.

“And what’s my excuse for after all that?” he drawled, unwilling to let her absolve him for this appalling negligence of her health and well-being. What kind of doctor was he, if he couldn’t be arsed to take adequate care of the woman he loved?

“Maybe, I dunno, the fact that I felt absolutely fine? That we were busy navigating all your new quirks and preferences while still saving planets? Anyway, you still haven’t even told me what’s going on.”

The Doctor scrunched up his face as he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. She was right, obviously. Somehow he was still managing to procrastinate. His teeth ground slightly as he set his jaw and made his way back to the couch.

“You have a large amount of artron energy,” he began. “More than just background radiation. Way more. I would say life threatening amounts, except you also are absolutely riddled with huon particles. Also deadly.”

“Huon particles?”

“Eradicated by the Time Lords near the end of the dark times - oh, look at that, it all came back ‘round, sort of.”

“But you just said they were deadly,” Rose frowned. “Why does it sound like they’re a good thing? I mean, your people obviously had a reason for gettin’ rid of ‘em all. How’re they even there?”

Oh, his magnificent, brilliant, fantastic bondmate - always asking the right questions. A small smile lighted her face as she caught the thought.

“See, the TARDIS is connected to the Vortex, which goes all the way back - remnants of huon particles exist in her heart, which you opened up and used to merge with her, a whole fifth dimension running through the both of you. The huon particles are stabilizing the artron energy - it’s feeding them instead of overtly impacting the rest of your body. So in this case, this one case, the reemergence of deadly particles from the dawn of time is a good thing. Even so, that wouldn’t be enough, except you didn’t just merge with the Vortex alone but with the TARDIS. The TARDIS emits chronon particles, and one of the key differences between Time Lords and non-Time Lord Gallifreyans is that our bodies are surrounded by a bio-plasmic field of chronon energy, allowing us to bond with a TARDIS.”

“Oh. Right, that’s why when you were sick the TARDIS wasn’t working properly. Couldn’t translate for us.”

“Yes, yes, exactly.” The Doctor got back to his feet, the need to pace outweighing his desire to remain close to his wife. “Now, the thing about having a surrounding field is that it can, er, leach on to others. Infect them. Not in a bad way. It’s what provides me with protection from the time stream, helps with cell rejuvenation, etcetera. So actually, if a bit of it didn’t migrate away to those I’m close with, I’d never be able to bring anyone along on the TARDIS with me. Too dangerous. Thing is, you have your own now, not just an echo of mine. Which makes sense. You two became one, of course she would bond with you as well. Thing is, to do that - your DNA, Rose. Becoming Bad Wolf. It’s given you symbiotic chronon nuclei.”

“And what’s that, then? Something to do with the chronon particles?”

“In a sense. It’s only viewable with a temporal reading, which the TARDIS base scans do automatically, because that’s what’s normal for me. She doesn’t change protocols just because the other person she’s scanning happens to be human. I’ve mentioned before that I have TNA. Triple helix instead of double, yes?”

Rose nodded, taking a wary sip of her tea.

“Well, it’s actually a bit more complicated than that. Properly, temporally scanned it’s actually four strands. That symbiotic chronon nuclei is the physical, quasi-symbiotic link between the TARDIS and I. Now you have one too.”

“So wait, I’ve got four strands of DNA now? And we didn’t even notice?” Her mug clattered onto the table as she deposited it and stood quickly.

“No, no, no, just the three. No TNA. But this is where things get complicated.”

“You mean there’s more ?” she screeched, going paler than she already had been, thoughts becoming a whirl of panic. “Isn’t it complicated enough?!”

“Weeeeeell, let’s go back to that third strand I’ve got, yeah? It’s pretty much, and by pretty much I mean almost the sole reason, that regeneration is possible. Stores all the information for past and future incarnations, as well as other things,” he explained, waving his hands around, “and as far as I understood it, that’s what allowed for a Gallifreyan’s self-replicating biogenic molecules.”

“Your what?”

“Remember the nanogenes?” he asked, finally walking back to her in order to weave their fingers together.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“Gallifreyan bodies have something like that. Biological nanites. Not only do they allow for regeneration, but on a daily basis they repair and prune any damaged or malformed cells. Hence why we age so slowly. I’ll look just like this for hundreds of years yet.”

She nodded slowly. “And lemme guess, I’ve got those too, somehow.”

“Yes. Though wired differently than mine, You’re still human , Rose. Just … with genetic modifications. Powerful genetic modifications. Obviously meant to keep you alive, because really, thinking about it properly, you shouldn’t have survived the trip back to the gamestation, much less been able to accomplish everything you did. A symbiotic self-renewing cell structure is really the obvious solution to the problem, and if you did have TNA like I do, the gigantic surge of artron energy would have triggered a regeneration, just like it did for me. But your body doesn’t work that way, so it just- just healed the damage, no mess, no fuss.”

“And they’re still there now, healing stuff?”

The Doctor nodded.

“So what does it all mean, then, exactly? Without all of the science babble.”

“Without it?” He winced at the way his voice nearly squeaked.

“As little of it as you can get away with,” Rose conceded, the smidge of laughter in her voice doing wonders for his frayed nerves.

“Alright. Well, your cell death is almost non-existent. Your brain activity, in addition to the new telepathic adjustments, has increased in both capacity and function. You likely haven’t noticed because you haven’t tried to stretch things more than average, and why would you? Despite all of these changes, it’s not like you really knew about them or have had any sort of training on how to incorporate them aside from our telepathy lessons. With the way you’re connected to the TARDIS, you could probably learn to sense time. That’s what allows for most of my time senses, by the way.”

“Doctor, less babble,” his wife helpfully reminded him.

“Right, yes, well,” he swallowed audibly, “the main thing is … you’re not going to age at the same rate as everyone else you know. Everyone human, that is. There’s no way for me to be certain how long your life might be, since our timelines are too tightly wound together.”

“They are?”

“Of course they are.” At this, the Doctor finally smiled, wrapping his arms around her. “That’s the thing, the crucial thing, about the bond. Why I needed to check the scans to make sure. It exists not just because we love each other, not just because we have compatible minds, but because our timelines were able to be synced. Literally able to be together forever, however long forever might be. This connection we have, it’s not the kind that can be forced, it can only happen spontaneously. In fact, from what I’ve read, the existence of this form of bond is exactly why the practice of making less deep and all encompassing ones came into being. Others who weren’t as, as destined for each other, for lack of a better word, wanted the same kind of intimacy. And of course it fell out of favor, not just because of Gallifrey’s abandonment of emotional ties in general, but because of the pain associated with losing a partner you’ve permanently telepathically merged with.”

“So that, us … we won’t have that?”

“I can’t view my own timeline and I can’t view yours, but I do know that they’re so tightly twined that you can’t tell the two apart. I can feel it, and maybe someday you will be able to on your own, but for now I can always show you,” he offered.

“I- I’d like that, but …” Rose trailed off, biting her lip and looking away.

“What?”

“’S just, you were so, so upset earlier. And it’s definitely a lot to take in, but, I mean, doesn’t it all seem like a good thing?” she asked, turning back toward him, eyes locking with his and broadcasting her pained confusion just as adequately as the bond itself was.

“For me? Of course it is, and the selfish part of me has never been more happy. But Rose, you have to understand that I wasn’t trying to be dramatic that night, outside of the chippy, when I said that my lifespan was a curse. You’re going to outlive everyone you know and love, aside from me. You won’t age at the same rate that they do. And I know that it’s expected for children to outlive their parents, but you’re going to spend far longer without your mother than with her. This … it was never something I wanted for you, the pain of so many goodbyes.”

Rose shut her eyes before burrowing her head into his chest, holding him tighter. For a long time they were silent, though the Doctor could hear her racing thoughts as she tried to process all of the information he had shoved at her in such a short period of time. He was content to just hold her, rubbing a soothing arm up and down her back until a singular thought rang out across their bond that had her gasping and him groaning.

We have to tell mum.

The Doctor spun around the console in a whirlwind, Rose clinging to the jumpseat. He could feel her trepidation as they landed, her worry about her mother’s reaction to their news. So he wasn’t surprised in the slightest at her shock upon opening the TARDIS' door and finding them very much not on Earth.

“Think your driving’s a bit more off than usual,” she noted vaguely as he finally stepped away from the console to grab his jacket.

“Is it really?” He gave her a look of wide eyed bewilderment, just as his thoughts inevitably revealed that he had had no intention of making the trip to Jackie’s - yet.

Rose crossed her arms, giving him an unconvincing glare as the Doctor finally met her at the door and stuck his head outside.

“Ah, perfect!” he exclaimed. “Right where I wanted to be.”

“Oh, really? And where’s that then?” his wife asked, finally stepping out of their ship and having a look around. There were rows and rows of stalls and booths as far as the eye could see.

“It’s a bazaar. On an asteroid. Moves around every four cycles to a different asteroid in a different sector. Used to just be a handful of merchants and artisans and performing artists, a sort of circus, if you will, only without the mistreated animals and exploited people. Was called Mz’trak’s Marvelous Moving Menagerie - gotta love that alliteration, absolutely amazing. But as you can see, it grew. Doesn’t have a name now. Too much going on. Still, organized enough to make it’s trip across the quadrant. They span galaxies, Rose Tyler! This is the place to go to find anything you could possibly imagine!”

“Okay,” she said slowly, drawing out the word as she turned back to face him. “And what, exactly, are we lookin’ for that’s so important that you’re putting off visiting mum?”

“Oh, right, see, about that - I thought, maybe, just maaaybe, you’d be able to find something for her here. To, erm, soften the blow, as it were. Butter her up a bit.” Make her less likely to regenerate me, he didn’t say, but he didn’t have to. The thought was pretty much blaring on a loop that his bondmate was unlikely to miss.

“Seriously?! Doctor, if you hide away again and force me to have this talk all on my own, I swear-”

“No, no, I won’t! We’ll do this together, I promise!” he hastened. No need to have two angry Tylers on his hands.

“Honestly, I don’t know why you’re so afraid of her,” Rose said with a roll of her eyes before taking his hand and beginning to walk through the market.

Normally she buzzed up to nearly every stall, wanting to see as many strange and novel alien things as possible, but this time his wife was quickly passing them by, categorizing everything in their immediate vicinity as ‘too alien’. Admittedly, the Doctor hadn’t given that much consideration when he decided that a gift for his mother-in-law would be a good plan.

“It’s a premonition I have, really,” he told her, “that your mum will be the death of me. Unlikely, I’ll give you that, but you never know. Sometimes these things have merit. I was once very good at that kind of thing, seeing the future. Well, not really. More like an unconscious tracking of future timelines that seems like a form of prescience but is really-”

“You are so full of it,” Rose laughed. “But speaking of past yous, I’m not going to regenerate, am I?”

While the Doctor had thought that he’d been very clear in the library earlier, perhaps he hadn’t explained very well. Too much ‘science babble’, probably.

“Nope,” he assured her, popping the ‘p’ and giving her one of his best grins.

“So Bad Wolf didn’t make me into a Time Lord. Just …”

“Bad Wolf didn’t do any such thing,” he frowned. “If you want, I can show you the second by second time stamps of the scans the TARDIS took of you during all that - constant state of danger, there’s hundreds of them. But no, the TARDIS did all of that herself so that you two could become Bad Wolf. If you recall, our ship is a multidimensional alien being that even I don’t completely understand. And she likes you. A lot. Didn’t want you to die.”

He stopped himself, barely, from continuing on (again) about how he should have realized this all ages ago. There was really no point to it, just his wounded ego. Plus, who had time for brooding, anyway?

“Sure she doesn’t just like you a lot?” his wife asked with a smirk. “Y’know, making sure the girl her pilot likes so much has a matching lifespan?”

The Doctor abruptly stopped his near-skipping and pulled Rose into his arms with a growl.

“Oh, I much more than like you, Rose Tyler.”

“That so?” his cheeky wife asked him with a tongue touched grin.

Minx, he chastised telepathically, his mouth now busy as he dipped her into a snog that was likely inappropriate for public, but for once she wasn’t complaining.

“Also,” he added, after breaking the kiss so that she could catch her breath, “it would be Time Lady, you know. And that is a little complicated, now that I think about it. Because you’re not Gallifreyan, but not all Gallifreyan’s are Time Lords or Time Ladies. Then again, you have the bit of genetic jiggery pokery that makes a Gallifreyan a Time, er-”

“Let’s just go with Time Lord, yeah?”

“It’s a hypothetical political correctness jumble,” he muttered with a grimace.

“So I’m a bit like a human Time Lady? Kind of?”

“Kind of. Eh. Doesn’t really matter, though, does it?”

Rose had gone back to scanning the booths, but was quick to turn her sharp gaze back to him. “How could it not matter?”

“Well, I mean, you’re still Rose Tyler. Doesn’t matter to me, what kind of species you call yourself. The important thing is that you’re you, and I get to keep you.”

And the Doctor could tell that she didn’t exactly agree with him, all of the ramifications of this still buzzing around in her head and the impending talk with Jackie making her permanently anxious. But still, she smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

Finally some stalls came up that looked promising and his bondmate began looking at things in earnest. As he watched her flit about, the thought began to really settle in. They would be able to stay together, not just for the very short human forever that he had struggled to come to terms with, but for his forever.

The weight of the Universe on his shoulders had never felt lighter.

It suddenly did seem a little bit ridiculous, all of his worries about Jackie’s reaction. At least when it came to him . Over 900 years old, he could (probably) take it. If anything, he was more concerned for Rose. If (or really, it was more likely to be when) her mother reacted poorly, she would undoubtedly be hurt.

Flashes of their ‘marriage announcement’ briefly passed through his mind.

This time, though, he would be there for her. Absolutely no swanning off or hiding or cowering of any sort. Well, minimal cowering. Can’t set the bar too high, knowing he was about to get a smack (even if none of it was actually his fault). It would all be worth it in the end, being able to spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved.

“Do you think mum would like this?” Rose asked, interrupting his chaotic stream of thought.

“What’s that?” The Doctor walked closer to the booth, finally taking notice of his surroundings instead of blindly following his wife. “Oh! These are all made of bazoolium! That’s brilliant!” he exclaimed, touching a large piece that was either intended to be abstract art or a Raqkle Bear about to attack, unsurprised by the neutral temperature. After all there was no weather to speak of on the asteroid.

“Yeah, he was just tellin’ me that they could predict the weather,” she said, gesturing toward the shopkeeper. The Doctor barely spared him a glance before investigating the ones that were combined with wind chimes, surprised when the chimes were actually made of bazoolium as well.

“They’re not incredibly unlike the barometers you lot have, only much more accurate. The truly impressive part is the fact that this property is naturally occurring in the mineral. Plus there’s really not much interpreting to it - if it’s hot, you’ll have a nice sunshine-y day, and if it’s cold there’ll be rain. Or snow, I suppose. But all you have to do is touch it. Definitely simple enough for Jackie to get use of-”

He winced when Rose telepathically zapped him, which he really should have seen coming.

After apologizing, the Doctor (for the most part) kept his mouth shut as she selected a small one that looked as un-alien as possible, something that any of Jackie’s friends would look at and think was some random tchotchke, just a thing and then think nothing of it. As soon as she finished her purchase, he took her hand and reluctantly headed back the way they came.

In a private corner of his mind he had come up with thousands of different ideas for putting this next trip off, but eventually discarded every single one of them (even if some were astonishingly brilliant). His wife wanted to get this over with, so that’s what they were going to do.

If anything, he regretted putting all of their efforts into getting her mother some bauble to put her in a good mood when they should have also been coming up with a plan for distracting her after this ‘talk’.

“Distracting her? How would we possibly distract her?” Rose wondered aloud.

The Doctor felt strangely giddy, knowing that she’d been paying attention to him over the bond. They were starting to get pretty good at not constantly acknowledging all of the thoughts that were projected without real intent, so much so that he sometimes wondered if his wife was listening most of the time. His thoughts were very interesting, after all, so he wasn’t sure how she could ignore them if she wasn’t just tuning it all out.

She rolled her eyes, making it clear that she’d caught all of that as well.

“I don’t know,” he went on, “I’m not sure what would hold her attention, aside from gossip and telly. Maybe we should nip into the future, get some Eastenders DVDs. Or some tabloids. Then again, I doubt your mother could keep her future knowledge a secret and next thing you know, we’ll have a paradox on our hands. Can’t have that.”

Rose laughed as they entered the TARDIS.

“Dunno if it’s really much of a distraction, but I do have some laundry I’ve been meaning to bring over.”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. “I refuse to believe your mother actually enjoys doing your laundry. There’s a perfectly good laundry room in the TARDIS. You don’t even have to do much of anything. Just put your clothes down the chute and she’ll do all the rest, even the folding.” And yes, he had told her all of this before, on multiple occasions - every time she had laundry to bring back, in fact.

So the Doctor wasn’t surprised when she said, “It makes her feel useful. She likes doing mum stuff for me.”

She said something along those lines every time. This time, however, his responding ‘fine’ was telepathic, rather than verbal as he began piloting them into the Vortex and she disappeared down the corridor to gather said laundry.

Since he was going to have to wait until Rose was finished before flying them to Jackie’s (let it not be said that he can’t learn a lesson) he almost followed her to their room. But just as he moved away from the console, he sensed that his bondmate could use some privacy while she got her thoughts in order, trying to decide exactly what she was going to say to her mum, not wanting to get into absolutely everything.

So he sat down on the jumpseat, kicked his feet onto the console, and focused on sending soothing emotions over their bond. Eventually, Rose reappeared with her giant red duffle, looking plenty nervous but definitely less so than she’d been before.

“Ready?” he asked, hopping back to his feet.

“No,” she sighed, dropping the bag onto the newly vacated seat before flashing him a wary grin. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The landing was relatively smooth as they materialized in the middle of the playground next to the Estates. Rose grabbed her bag but then just stood there, staring blankly at the time rotor.

What if she hates me?

Her projected terror and anguish hit the Doctor with the pain of a physical blow. He raced around the console and pulled her into a hug that was probably a bit on the side of too tight in his attempt to hold her as close as possible. She dropped her things back onto the jumpseat before wrapping her arms around him and balling his coat in her fists.

“Rose, your mother will never hate you. If I know one thing for certain about Jackie Tyler, it’s that she loves you more than anything else in the Universe,” he informed her, willing his sincerity to find a way to make it through their connection, with the way his bondmate’s emotions were seemingly attempting to take it over.

“It’s just going to be so much for her to take in. How’s she supposed to deal with that?”

“I’m definitely not saying her initial reaction will be at all pleasant. I think it would do you some good, memorizing this face. Appreciate it. It’s a nice face, and who knows what I may end up with once she’s done with me? But that being said, overall I’m extremely confident that your mum will still know that you’re you, no matter what’s happened to your body.”

“I hope so,” his wife sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I know so,” the Doctor whispered in her ear before pulling back slightly. “In fact, let’s just stay here for a bit. That way you don’t have to immediately get into everything, just enjoy spending time with your mum. Then after we tell her, we’ll stick around so that she has to get used to the idea. I mean, we have wedding things to do still, if that growing list on your nightstand is any indicator.” Plus, it will hopefully get me some points. While it seemed unlikely that he would get into Jackie’s good books anytime in the near future, he’d take anything that would swing things in his favor.

“That would be nice.” Rose finally managed a smile.

“Alright then, it’s settled. Now that we’re here, let’s just have tea and takeaway with your mum. We’ll watch some telly, figure out the whole of London’s business, and while she’s at it, she can explain to me exactly why she enjoys doing laundry so much.”

At that his wife laughed. The Doctor leaned down and kissed her, sending love and happiness across their bond and was inordinately pleased to have it returned. He did such a good job cheering her up, in fact, that he was now feeling quite good about this whole thing. Spending weeks at the Powell Estates wasn’t exactly what he’d prefer to be doing, but he’d managed it over Christmas and New Years, so he was confident that he would survive it again. All too soon Rose pulled away, once again grabbing her laundry and then quickly making her way to the door.

“C’mon, then. You’re gonna regret parkin’ all the way over here, if we’re staying for so long.”

“Nah, we’ll just move her later. Shove all the furniture in your old room out of the way so that she’ll fit,” he decided as he followed her out of the TARDIS.

Once Rose got her arms through the straps of the bag, he took her hand and they meandered through the playground.

“I have missed mum,” she said, taking in the bustle of life around them. “How long have we been gone? For her, I mean.”

“Oh, only about two weeks.”

“Really? Do you think she’s even gotten the postcard yet? How long do they usually take, it being international and all?”

“Should have gotten here by now. Can’t know for sure, though, too many unknown variables.”

“I bet you’re tryin’ to do the maths now,” she teased, swinging their arms back and forth as they got closer to Jackie’s flat. With their future discussion pushed back a bit, Rose was becoming more and more excited about this trip, and the Doctor could feel how much she had missed her mother. While it would only be two weeks for Jackie, it had been over a month for them.

“I’m doing all sorts of maths right now, so what if some of them happen to be related to customs services? Keeps me occupied.”

“If doing calculations and things could really keep you occupied, we’d do a lot less running for our lives,” his bondmate oh so helpfully pointed out.

The Doctor didn’t bother responding to this as they made their way up the stairs.

“Mum, it’s us! We’re back!” Rose called as she unlocked the door.

“Oh, I don’t know why you bother with that phone, you never use it!” Jackie exclaimed, quickly meeting them at the door.

“Aw, c’mere,” his wife smiled, opening her arms.

He squeezed past them both as they hugged and said their ‘I love yous’ in the tiny hallway, only to get dragged back by Jackie.

“Oh no, you don’t. Come here!” his mother-in-law said, pulling him into a sort-of hug that trapped both of his arms to his sides, for some reason finding it necessary to rock him back and forth. Rose had no pity, quickly getting out of their way.

You’re a bad wife, he mentally chastised as Jackie planted a much too wet kiss on his cheek.

All he got in return was a buzz of telepathic laughter.

“Hello, Jackie!” he squeaked. “How are things?”

“They’d be better if you managed to fly that spaceship of yours proper! It’s been three months! You said you two’d be back ages ago. I was starting to wonder if you’d be a year again!”

What?!

He winced at Rose’s telepathic shout. Really could have sworn he’d double checked the date.

“I’ll, er, check the TARDIS in a bit. Been awhile since I’ve done a full systems check. Lots of delicate machinery, you know. Speck of dust on the wrong circuit and then bam, end up in 1546 instead of 2546, and let me tell you they have two completely different dress codes,” he rambled as he finally escaped her grasp.

Is that really what you think, or is it something else? his wife asked over the bond. She was of the opinion that the TARDIS always had a reason for landing them somewhere they hadn’t intended on going.

“I get this postcard in the mail,” Jackie went on, “from bleedin’ Alaska, then nothin’. Phone goes straight to voicemail, you don’t answer any of my texts. Lucky the hall was booked so far in advance when you set the date. But now you’re back, that’s what matters, I know.”

Could go either way, he admitted. It is true that I’ve been doing a lot less maintenance than usual.

Her concern was quickly forgotten as she shrugged her rucksack off of her shoulders and refocused on her mum.

“Yeah, calls didn’t go through because the flight went wrong. Still, I’ve got loads of washing for ya,” she said, passing Jackie the bag and really, he couldn’t understand why her mother was smiling about being handed a bunch of laundry. 

The Doctor rolled his eyes and looked around for a moment before deciding that the stack of freshly opened mail on the table was probably the most interesting thing in the room (he was wrong - dead boring).

“And I got you this,” his wife continued, “it’s from the market on this asteroid bazaar. It’s made of, er, what’s it called?”

“Bazoolium,” he replied, speed reading through all the bills one more time and trying to make sense of exactly why it cost this much for all of these incredibly basic things. He couldn’t understand why neither Rose nor Jackie would let him upgrade the flat so that there would be no need to pay some company for electricity or gas or television. As someone who constantly complained about how expensive these things were, you’d think her mum would be all for him making some improvements. It was all a lost cause, though, so he switched to one of Jackie’s tabloids.

“Bazoolium,” Rose repeated. “When it gets cold, yeah, it means it’s going to rain. When it’s hot, it’s going to be sunny. You can use it to tell the weather!”

“I’ve got a surprise for you and all.”

“Oh, I get her bazoolium, she doesn’t even say thanks.”

He turned and gave his bondmate a smirk. While he had also been hoping that her mother would appreciate the present, the Doctor also wasn’t surprised. Jackie Tyler never did tend to act predictably. When they don’t come back with trinkets, she asks why they didn’t think of her when they were gallivanting around. They do, and she doesn’t have the attention span to appreciate it. Just their luck, really.

“Guess who’s coming to visit? You’re just in time. He’ll be here at ten past. Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, go on. Guess.”

“No, I hate guessing. Just tell me.”

“It’s your granddad.”

The Doctor had been mostly focused on the gossip magazine (while mostly rubbish, they did have a knack for reporting on alien matters that the general public had been conditioned to not believe), but at this he snapped his head up. He’d never met a grandfather of Rose’s, and the alarm that shot through their bond had him very curious to learn why that was.

“Grandad Prentice,” Jackie continued. So, maternal grandfather then. “He’s on his way any minute. Right, cup of tea! I’ve told him all about the upcoming wedding, you know.” She disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to make tea. He was quick to drop the magazine and see what exactly had his wife so upset.

“She’s gone mad,” Rose told him in a low voice. How could this have happened?

“Tell me something new,” he quipped, trying to lighten the mood as images of an older gentlemen played through their connection.

“Grandad Prentice, that’s her dad,” she continued, “but he died, like, ten years ago.” Now she shared images of the funeral, open casket, no question as to whether the man they were burying was indeed Jackie’s father. “Oh my god, she’s lost it.” How can she have gone so crazy in so short a time?! I know that it’s been months instead of weeks, but she was fine when we left!

We’ll figure it out, he assured her as he followed her into the kitchen.

“Mum? What you just said about granddad …”

“Any second now,” Jackie told them, looking thrilled.

The Doctor took a deep breath and looked around, activating senses that he usually kept blocked off so as to avoid the constant distraction. Something was off, but it was just, just a tickle. He couldn’t possibly explain the slight deviation from normal, and knew without trying that the sonic wouldn’t be able to isolate it. The TARDIS might be able to, but still, he would probably need a better idea of what to have her look for. Narrow it down.

“But he passed away,” his bondmate calmly explained. “His heart gave out. Do you remember that?”

“Of course I do.” The manic gleam still hadn’t left her eyes, though.

Was it some sort of gas? Chemical? No, couldn’t be. He’d be able to taste it in the air. Telepathic influence? Unlikely, since there wasn’t anything brushing up against their barriers.

“Then how can he come back?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” her mum countered as all of his hairs began to stand on edge. She checked her watch. “Ten past. Here he comes.”

Even before the spectral figure emerged right in Jackie’s kitchen, the Doctor’s mind was blaring a mauve alert, his time senses flailing, unable to compensate for whatever it was that had just appeared. The timelines of everyone at the Estates, of everyone in London, maybe even the whole of the United Kingdom for all he knew, tangled and cut off and back on again, on and off in an unsustainable state of temporal flux. All the while the spin of the Earth jolted slightly off kilter. This was bad bad bad bad bad.

“Here we are, then,” Jackie went on as if this was all completely normal. The Doctor’s eyes never left the ghostly figure and he knew that Rose was just as fixated. “Dad, say hello to Rose. Ain’t she grown?”

That is not your grandfather, he managed to project even as the rest of his brain was focused on trying to parse out what exactly could possibly be causing this.

Yeah, no, I know, came his bondmate’s panicked response as he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the flat as quickly as he possibly could.

Every instinct the Doctor possessed was telling him to get away from the planet as quickly as he possibly could, but that wasn’t going to happen. Like countless times before, he was running toward the danger. Soon enough they were out of the building, finally pausing when they reached the narrow street between the different blocks of flats.

“They’re everywhere!” he exclaimed, baffled as everyone around them went on with their days as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening at all even as it seemed like every sense he possessed was screaming wrong wrong WRONG. And he knew that he was projecting it all through the bond, it would take immense concentration to stop it and he needed to focus all of his energy on figuring out what it was that was causing it, on parsing out exactly what his body was trying to tell him.

Time was in flux, but also tangling and breaking but coming back together. It was as if whatever this was truly wasn’t corporeal enough to properly influence the timeline … yet. But they still had possible futures in which they did.

“Doctor, look out!” Rose yelled, and he barely had a moment to figure out what he was looking out for when one of the ‘ghosts’ walked right through him.

Cold.

Death.

Nothing.

It felt awful. Both he and his wife shuddered at the shared sensation, and a horrible metallic taste lingered on the Doctor’s tongue. Whatever these creatures were, he knew without a doubt that they weren’t good.

What are we gonna do?! Rose panicked across the bond.

He didn’t know. But he would figure it out. Before he could properly articulate that, Jackie finally caught up with them.

“They haven’t got long,” she told them. “Midday shift only lasts a couple of minutes. They’re about to fade.”

“What do you mean, ‘shift’?” the Doctor asked, hating that Jackie Tyler knew more about the phenomenon than he did and ignoring his bondmate’s exasperation about this fact. “Since when did ‘ghosts’ have ‘shifts’? Since when did ‘shifts’ have ‘ghosts’? What’s going on?”

He tried to think again about how it had physically felt, his thoughts moving so fast that he had to have missed something important. So much information coming in, but the horrid feeling drowned a lot of it out. It definitely wasn’t natural - nothing about them was. They didn’t belong here. Not on this planet, not even in this galaxy. But yet there was something familiar as well. A wrongness that he’d felt before? But he’d never felt anything like that before, so how -?

You’ll figure it out, Rose assured him.

“Oh, he’s not happy when I know more than him, is he?” Jackie commented, cheekily catching onto exactly what he’d been thinking earlier. His wife nearly laughed despite the dire seriousness of the situation.

“But no one’s running, or screaming, or freaking out,” the Doctor continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Why should we? Here we go, twelve minutes past.”

They all watched as the so-called ‘ghosts’ slowly faded out of existence. The timelines around them became more stable, but still with an ever so slight flicker. Probably because whatever was making it possible for these things to press themselves onto the Earth was still happening, still intended to do it again. After all, apparently there were shifts (of all the rubbish things).

Calm down. Rose sent a soothing wave of comfort over the bond as they headed back toward her mum’s flat - and it did help, but only a little.

I need more information, he told her (also reminding himself).

Once inside again, he took his wife’s hand and pulled her into the sitting room, all but dragging her onto his lap when he sat on the sofa and turned on the telly. It was years ago that he’d last done this, sat in Jackie Tyler’s flat attempting to figure out what alien phenomena was happening via channel flipping. Her mum sat down with them and thankfully didn’t comment about the way he was nearly clinging to her daughter.

One of the things he’d quickly flipped through when they arrived was the TV guide, so the first program he turned on was ‘Ghostwatch’, which he’d assumed was one of those fake ghost hunting shows with subpar night vision and poorly altered technology that really only picked up and enhanced the latent low level psychic radio waves of the people in the area, who of course were imagining the machine would say something spooky. Obviously it was something different.

So those ghost hunting things really are rubbish? his bondmate commented, sounding a little disappointed.

Sorry, he replied, even though he wasn’t feeling apologetic in the slightest. I could make one of those ‘ghost’ voice boxes and sit in this room and your mum would be able to hear everything we were saying right now. It actually is impressive technology, telepathic vocalizers. But it’s an accident that the human race hasn’t realized yet.

It was a good distraction, talking to Rose about this, because the actual Ghostwatch program was beyond unsettling.

“What the hell’s going on?” he muttered aloud, as the host of the program was obviously adding to a story that had been in development for some time and not telling him anything helpful (not that something resembling a military formation around Westminster Bridge wasn’t worth noting, but still). He changed the channel.

The weather wasn’t about weather, it was about ‘ghosts’.

Good thing I got mum the Bazoolium, Rose tried to joke, but the thought was accompanied by waves of stress. The Doctor wished that he could help, could make her feel better, but he knew that his own anxiety was just compounding it, making a feedback loop. He flipped the channel again.

Ghost drama.

Do you think this is why the TARDIS landed us here, made us skip months ahead? His wife wondered as he navigated away from the reality show.

Nothing important.

Must be, though you’d think she’d land us right when it started. Where we could have done something about it before they had a chance to affect the timelines this much. He quickly hit the channel button, refocusing on what he’d noticed about the timelines around them when they were outside.

Ghost advertisements.

There was something familiar about those as well. He just needed to think. And skip the commercials.

Ghosts in France.

Worldwide, then? Rose hazarded a guess as things began to click. England. France. A glimpse of a time storm at the 2012 Olympics. He punched in a channel this time.

Ghosts in India.

Yes, that was what was so familiar! This is what he’d caught when they were watching the fireworks. He punched in another channel.

Ghosts in Japan.

At first he thought that the slight shift in his bondmate’s mood was just because Rose (and her mum) loved watching Japanese telly, but then he focused in on her thoughts and she was remembering the time storm as well. Not just the chaotic timelines, but what he had said about theirs. He wasn’t meant to see their timeline, it should be impossible, but it had been there, cutting through the storm and continuing on.

It was hope.

Regardless, he wasn’t about to take any chances. Everything was still in flux. Just because he had seen that didn’t mean it was fixed. Not with the way the timelines around them continued to swirl and change based on variables he still had no real knowledge of.

“It’s all over the world.” Planetwide catastrophe. Definite invasion. An invasion he’d missed. He didn’t want to stamp out the tenuous hope Rose was beginning to feel, but it was hard for him to not feel bleak about his chances of fixing this. Why would the TARDIS land them so late?!

The Doctor blindly changed the channel.

Eastenders.

Eastenders with ghosts.

He turned off the telly, tossed the remote onto the coffee table, and held his wife tighter for a moment before shifting them a bit so that he could more easily talk to Jackie. It wasn’t so bad, really, that he needed help from his mother-in-law. It was fine. If he repeated that enough, he’d eventually believe it, right?

“When did it start?”

Jackie leaned forward, obviously thrilled to get into things. “Well, first of all, Peggy heard this noise in the cellar, so she goes down-”

The Doctor rolled his eyes, already regretting asking. “No, I mean worldwide.”

“Oh. That was about two months ago. Just happened. Woke up one morning and there they all were. Ghosts everywhere. We all ran ‘round screaming and that. Whole planet was panicking. No sign of you, thank you very much. I tried calling, texting - nothing. Worried sick, but then it’s always been hard to get ahold of you in that ship of yours. Then it sort of sank in. It took us time to realize that we’re lucky.”

Two months ago. Those were the coordinates he had punched in. That he knew he had entered in. But the TARDIS had changed them. Why?!

Rose shifted off of his lap to sit closer to her mum.

“What makes you think it’s granddad?” she asked, rubbing Jackie’s shoulder, sympathy and compassion coming off of her in waves.

“It just feels like him,” his mother-in-law began to explain. “There’s that smell, those old cigarettes. Can’t you smell it?”

No. No, there definitely was not. And he would know. Superior olfactory system.

“I wish I could, mum, but I can’t.”

“You’ve got to make an effort,” Jackie insisted. “You’ve got to want it, sweetheart.”

And that, that gave him some real insight to what was going on. A psychic connection. Much more subtle than telepathy. Belief.

His wife turned to look at him as he confirmed his suspicions. 

“The more you want it, the stronger it gets.”

“Sort of, yeah,” Jackie replied.

“Like a psychic link,” the Doctor explained aloud, for her benefit. “Of course you want your old dad to be alive, but you’re wishing him into existence. The ghosts are using that to pull themselves in.”

Not that they were actually ghosts, but one thing at a time.

“You’re spoiling it.”

None of it was real, but Jackie’s heartbreak obviously was. Still, he couldn’t let her live in the illusion. Whatever the ‘ghosts’ really were, they were dangerous.

“I’m sorry, Jackie, but there’s no smell, there’s no cigarettes. Just a memory.”

“But if they’re not ghosts,” Rose chimed in, “what are they, then?”

The Doctor turned away, trying to think. The way the timelines react to them, the various possibilities, they must be corporeal in some context.

“Yeah, but they’re human!” her mother exclaimed. “You can see them. They look human.”

There’s shifts. Can’t have shifts without someone being in charge of the timing. So they don’t exist in the world all the time. Just some of the time. And without their proper form.

“She’s got a point,” his bondmate conceded. “I mean, they’re all sort of blurred, but they’re definitely people. Or humanoid, y’know.”

“Maybe not,” he pointed out, turning back toward them. “They’re pressing themselves into the surface of the world. But a footprint doesn’t look like a boot.” With that, he stood up. There was work to be done. “Let’s get back to the TARDIS. I have some scans I want to run.”

“You’re not takin’ off again, are you?” Jackie asked, alarmed.

“No, no. At least, not yet. Right now I just need the equipment.”

“How ‘bout I meet you there in a bit,” Rose suggested, standing up just to give him a hug.

He really wished her mother wasn’t in the room. It wasn’t that he was feeling particularly, er, romantic, but still. It would be nice, comforting to just be able to hold her for a moment, maybe a quick snog, without prying eyes. His wife smiled before standing up on her tiptoes and giving him a peck on the lips that he wasn’t quite ready for. When she went to step down, the Doctor pulled her right back up and gave her a proper kiss.

If he had his way, they wouldn’t be separated for a moment. His instincts were screaming against it. In the end, it made having to listen to Jackie scoff a very minor inconvenience. They were all in incredible danger, he could at least get a farewell snog.

“I’ll be home soon,” Rose promised as she broke the kiss.

Home.

Somehow she was always able to make him so ridiculously happy, even when the rest of him was gripped with fear. The Doctor didn’t trust his voice, so he simply nodded.

I love you, he projected over the bond.

I love you, too, she replied, even as she released him, stepping back towards her mum.

He noticed Jackie roll her eyes, but she also had a bit of a smile - he wasn’t going to forget that later.

“Right,” he finally managed. “Off I go, then. Oh! By the way, you might want to push some things aside in Rose’s old bedroom. Unless you want the neighbors to start complaining about ‘my constant comings and goings’ again. Planetwide invasion aside, we figured we’d stay a few weeks.”

Then he was out the door, though he still heard Jackie’s excited screech of, “Really?! Why didn’t you say so before!”

The Doctor couldn’t help but smile as he walked toward the TARDIS.

Chapter Text

As soon as he entered his ship, the Doctor collapsed onto the jumpseat and stared blankly at the time rotor for a few moments. And then he glared at it.

“I somehow manage to happen upon the exact coordinates for the beginning of an invasion, and for some reason you’ve put me smack dab in the middle of it?!”

The answering hum was … frustrated.

He furrowed his brows, frowning. It would be exceedingly bad, incredibly bad, astonishingly bad bad bad if something else was influencing the TARDIS. The Doctor sprang to his feet and immediately sonicked open the grating, taking a moment to place a temporary barrier around his panic before he could worry Rose.

Back at the flat, she was having tea with her mother. She’d only just managed to get Jackie to stop complaining about his apparent need to ‘make everything about aliens’, and they were now talking about the wedding. Apparently she’d found a baker who said they’d make up cake samples that all somehow incorporated bananas. Best news he’d heard (well, technically) all day, and he couldn’t properly appreciate the sentiment when he desperately needed to check his ship and parse out exactly what he was going to do about these ‘ghosts’.

First things first, he needed to make sure that the TARDIS was physically fine. That she was healthy. And actually, it wasn’t so bad. There were some minor repairs he should take care of before they next left Earth, but nothing he couldn’t leave until after they’d saved the planet. The Doctor pulled himself out from under the console and bounced over to the navigational matrix, pulling a screen with him as he went.

His mouth dropped as he looked at the recording of their last flight path. A time track seemed to just- just pop into existence, pushing them months away. His ship had immediately landed due to the unexpected error. It literally looked like a glitch in the Vortex - but there were no such thing as glitches in the Time Vortex. A whole dimension doesn’t glitch - not without some outside force acting on it.

And any outside force meddling with time was even more dangerous than whatever these ‘ghosts’ were.

One bloody thing at a time, though.

The Doctor pushed himself away from the console and began pacing.

Ghosts ghosts ghosts ghosts ghosts.

Not really ghosts. Getting stronger from the psychic energy of the entire human race. Incredibly unpleasant when one walks through you - really do feel dead. Worse than dead. Likely nothing good, and all over the world.

But they appear in shifts. There’s shifts.

So someone had to be in charge of that. Probably multiple someones. But still, there would be a central location connected to them, giving them whatever help they need to press themselves onto the Earth from wherever they really are. To do that, all around the world, they would have to have an incredibly strong signal.

An incredibly strong, traceable signal.

“Alright then!”

Headfirst into danger was just what it was going to have to be.

The Doctor sonicked open a different panel and began rummaging around for the equipment he’d need. It wasn’t long before he heard the TARDIS' door open.

“According to the paper,” his wife announced, “they’ve elected a ghost as MP for Leeds. Now tell me about this plan you’re tryin’ so hard to keep secret.”

He popped out of the grating with a backpack full of equipment.

“Who you gonna call?” he joked.

“Ghostbusters!” Rose laughed, more amused by the voice he was using than his shockingly similar looking technology.

“I ain’t afraid of no ghosts,” the Doctor finished with a little jig before dashing out of the TARDIS.

“My mum’s on her way down,” she informed him as he looked around the playground for the best area to set up the cones. Actually, should do nicely right where they were.

“Oh?” He turned on his heel and went back into their ship, pleased that she’d seen fit to set out the rest of the equipment they would need. “Let’s get these outside.”

“Doctor,” his bondmate huffed, even as she took a cone. I don’t think we should tell her yet. About the lifespan thing. Not until after we’ve gotten rid of the ghosts. Like, way after. Next trip back.

That’s fine, he agreed as he sat down his roll of wire and cone and began plugging everything in.

“We’ll still have to stay for awhile, though. Because we said we would.”

The Doctor paused what he was doing, dramatically raising his eyes skyward. It was quite a nice day, really. You’d think, with London having nice weather for once, that he’d be able to enjoy it. He opened his mouth, planning to vocalize his many complaints, but as soon as he turned back towards Rose, he saw Jackie walking up.

After the ghosts, yes. Sometime during this trip, though, please . 

He wasn’t ashamed to beg. Well … a little ashamed.

“Why’d you park all the way over here?” Jackie asked as he began plugging the wires into the cone Rose had placed.

“Got tired of the alley. Bit dingy,” he quipped. It was a lie, but better than telling his mother-in-law that not only had the flight gone wrong time-wise, but also slightly by location.

His wife shot him a worried look as she caught the thought.

Later, he promised, rushing back into the TARDIS for the final cone. He would worry about all of that later - they had important things to do.

“When’s the next shift?” he asked as he sat the cone down.

“Quarter to,” Jackie answered, “but don’t go causing trouble. What’s that lot do?”

“Triangulates their point of origin.”

“I don’t suppose it’s the Gelth?” Rose asked, visions of their spectral forms playing across their bond for a moment.

“Nah,” the Doctor responded, and she quickly shrugged off the idea. “They were just coming through one little rift. This lot are transposing themselves over the whole planet. Like tracing paper.”

With the final cone plugged in, he ran over to make sure they were all in the proper position.

“You’re always doing this,” Jackie complained. “Reducing it to science. Why can’t it be real? Just think of it, though. All the people we’ve lost. Our families coming back home. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

He paused to give his mother-in-law an honest answer. 

“I think it’s horrific.” 

And then the Doctor bounced back into motion, unrolling the cable that would connect the triangulation devices to the TARDIS console. They were on a time crunch, after all. “Rose, give us a hand, love.”

His bondmate sighed before following him into the ship.

She’s so upset.

The Doctor remained silent, aware that the thought wasn’t really meant for him and even more aware that there wasn’t anything he could say that would help. He plugged in the cable and turned to Rose, aware that her mother had followed them inside. This is how they could help.

“As soon as the cones activate,” he explained quickly, pointing to the monitor, “if that line goes red, press that button there. If it doesn’t stop,” he continued, reaching into his jacket to pull out the sonic screwdriver, “setting 15-B. Hold it against the port, eight seconds and stop.”

“15-B, eight seconds,” she confirmed.

“If it goes into the blue, activate the deep scan on the left.”

“Uhm … oh!” His wife leaned over the console, which he found much more provocative than the situation really called for. “This button there?”

“Hmm close.”

And he’d really, sincerely intended to send her a mental image of the correct button, but some wires must have gotten crossed there. Instead what he sent was a memory of their return to the TARDIS right after the Rhibelini festival. Eh. Oops?

“That one?” Rose smirked, pointing to another button that was definitely not close, while sending some very, uhm, creative suggestions that, unfortunately, weren’t actually feasible.

“Eehh, now you’ve just killed us,” the Doctor told her with a theatrical grimace.

With the button, or- ?

They both laughed, but only for a moment.

“Er, that one.” She confidently pointed to the correct button, telepathically informing him that she knew the whole time.

“Yeah!” he smiled before turning to Jackie. “Now, what’ve we got? Two minutes to go?”

Jackie looked down at her watch, and the Doctor was glad that she didn’t realize that he was just trying to make her feel needed. That he was a Time Lord and didn’t need her help to check the time. Because his wife had to be right - there’s no way her mum actually enjoys the act of doing laundry. She enjoys being a mum.

You like her, Rose teased over the bond.

Shush.

He gave her a peck on the cheek before exiting the ship to do the final prep work on the triangulation cones. It was go time. The Doctor raced around, calibrating each one.

“What’s the line doing?” he shouted through the door.

“It’s alright,” came his wife’s answering shout, though she really didn’t need to with his superior hearing. She could whisper and he’d be able to hear her from this short of a distance. “It’s holding!”

“You even look like him,” Jackie said to Rose, and he could hear her just fine. Not that he understood what that was supposed to mean.

“How do you mean? I suppose I do, yeah,” his wife responded, sounding pleased, though he still didn’t know what it meant. Rose didn’t look at all like him. What a strange thing to say. He tried to refocus on the triangulation equipment.

“You’ve changed so much,” Jackie sighed. “All grown up and married to an alien, living in a spaceship.”

The Doctor almost said something to Rose about her mother acknowledging that they were, in fact, already married, but then caught himself. If she didn’t already know that he was eavesdropping, no need to make it obvious. Not that it would matter either way. He wasn’t going to stuff cotton in his ears just because the humans in his life couldn’t be bothered to remember all of his biological differences.

“For the better,” his wife replied with confidence. “We have an amazing life, and we’re in love.”

“I suppose. It’s just barmy. Seeing you two like this in this box of his. Makes it hard to pretend everything’s even a little normal.”

He wondered what exactly Jackie imagined their life was like when they weren’t around. Things had actually gotten shockingly domestic lately, though it would still probably be too alien for his mother-in-law.

“Mum, I used to work in a shop.”

“I’ve worked in shops. What’s wrong with that?”

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Rose sighed.

Once again the Doctor made himself refocus on the task at hand, all the while hoping that they weren’t about to have a row.

“I know what you meant. What happens when I’m gone?”

“Don’t talk like that,” Rose ordered, distress flooding their connection, making it nearly impossible for him to pay attention to the cones.

How exactly was he supposed to save the Earth with these working conditions?

There was a smug voice in his head, with a distinct Northern accent, very pleased to point out how they were right about avoiding domestics.

“No, but really. When I’m dead and buried, you won’t have any reason to come back home. What happens then?” Jackie asked her.

“I don’t know,” Rose mumbled, as she tried and failed to imagine their future life without her mother in it.

The Doctor frowned, realizing that he couldn’t quite picture it either.

“Do you think you’ll ever settle down?” her mother continued.

Their connection was now awash with all sorts of negative emotions, and he could tell that his bondmate was near tears, which was completely unacceptable. He turned away from the cones, ready to march back on board before stopping himself.

“The Doctor never will, so I can’t,” Rose told her. “Wouldn’t want to. We’ll just keep traveling.”

“And you’ll keep on changing. And in forty years time, fifty, there’ll be this woman, this strange woman, walking through the marketplace on some planet a billion miles from Earth. But she’s not Rose Tyler. Not anymore. She’s not even human.”

Their bond somehow managed to pulse mauve.

It’s going to be okay, love, he tried to comfort her, fighting to send soothing, positive thoughts over their connection just as he finished up the calibrations. A distraction, that’s what she needed! It was certainly what he needed.

“Here we go!” he shouted.

“The scanner’s working!” Rose called out. “It says Delta-One-Six!”

“Come on then, you beauty!” the Doctor laughed, firmly resolved on drowning out all of the pain present in their shared mental space with adrenaline fueled glee. After all, he had always wanted to use these cones - they were state of the art!

He watched with wide eyes as the cones connected, immediately trapping one of the so-called ‘ghosts’ within their quasi-electric field. And then he reached into his pocket, carefully blocking their bond as he pulled out and put on a pair of 3D glasses - this was the part of his speculations that he really would rather not worry his bondmate with. At least, not yet. Not until he absolutely had to.

The ghost … thing he’d just trapped was absolutely riddled with Void particles. Completely covered, blurry head to blurry toe. Blimey.

The Doctor knelt down, adjusting the controls in order to get a more accurate read. If he was lucky, he would be able to figure out which parallel world these creatures were trying to come from. Likely a parallel Earth, but which one?

It began writhing, though nothing about the triangulation device should cause a living thing pain.

“Don’t like that much, do you?” he couldn’t help commenting. “Who are you? Where are you coming from? Woah!” He jumped back as the ‘ghost’ attempted to break out of the containment field. “That’s more like it! Not so friendly now, are you?”

He looked on as the creature faded away and the cones deactivated. While some more time would have been helpful, the Doctor had enough information to get started. After quickly picking up all of the cones, he ran back inside. Once he’d dumped them all out of the way, he raced up to the console, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it onto the railing.

“I said so!” he exclaimed. “Those ghosts have been forced into existence from one specific point, and I can track down the source. Allons-y!”

With that, he slammed the dematerialization lever, the coordinates having been inputted by the triangulation device. So handy! Finally got to use it.

The TARDIS shook violently.

Well, maybe he could make some improvements ... if he ever got the chance to use it again. The Doctor sprung to his feet and stabilized the flight.

Things seemed abnormally silent in the console room and over their bond. He was uncertain as to why, but still gave over to his natural inclination to fill the silence.

“I like that,” he told his wife as he moved around the console. “Allons-y. I should say allons-y more often. Allons-y. Watch out, Rose Tyler. Allons-y. And then, it would be really brilliant if I met someone called Alonso, because then I could say, ‘Allons-y Alonso’ every time.” He finally reached Rose and wrapped his arms around her before pausing. “You’re staring at me.”

“My mum’s still on board,” she whispered, squeezing his arms.

The Doctor looked up to see Jackie Tyler sitting on one of the platforms.

It was terrifying.

“If we end up on Mars, I’m going to kill you.”

Absolutely, bone-chillingly terrifying.

Stop being a drama queen, his bondmate chastised.

Oh, the domestics of it all! Worse than living in a house! Traveling with his mother-in-law?!

You’ll be fine, it’s hardly traveling . We’re in the same city, in the same time, Rose reassured him, rolling her eyes before giving him a proper hug.

What was he supposed to do now, though?! Bring Jackie with them? Leave her in the TARDIS? It would likely be dangerous wherever they ended up, invasion and all. The alternative was having her stay in their home to snoop around and get up to who knows what. There was no winning!

“Welcome aboard, Jackie!” he said with a wave, his smile showing a bit too much teeth.

“Where exactly are we going, anyway?” her mother asked.

“Come down, mum. You can watch the landing on the view screen with us,” Rose encouraged, releasing him so that she could meet her halfway. “We’re gonna land at wherever they’re controlling the ghosts. Are you fine to stay on board? There’s a pool, you could have a nice swim. Or watch telly in the media room. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m just supposed to hang out in this weird ship of his while you’re off trying to get yourselves killed?”

“We do stuff like this all the time,” the Doctor piped in, trying to reassure her. “Only this time you’re on the TARDIS instead of at home in your flat. Which, really, is much better, when you think about it. Best ship in the Universe.”

Jackie still didn’t look thrilled as they all gathered around the view screen. She looked even less thrilled as they watched the TARDIS land in a hanger before immediately being surrounded by armed gunmen.

“Oh, well, there goes the advantage of surprise,” he sighed. “Still, cuts to the chase.”

Now he was going to have to deal with soldiers. Really, every time he thought that the day couldn’t possibly get worse. The Doctor turned to his mother-in-law as he made his way around the console.

“Jackie, stay inside. Doors shut. They can’t get in.”

“I’m not staying here! Take me home!”

“It’s too late for that,” he told her. “Shouldn’t have come aboard if you didn’t fancy a trip.”

“I was kidnapped!”

He rolled his eyes, deciding not to dignify that with a response as he took Rose’s hand. She pulled him to a stop before they reached the door.

“Doctor, they’ve got guns.”

The Doctor mentally reminded his wife that they’d been surrounded by much, much worse. Daleks couldn’t help but come to mind. 21 st century Earth guns were really the least of his concerns at the moment. Jackie Tyler accidentally breaking his precious timeship was more of a worry than guns. Whatever these creatures had planned, definitely more of a worry than guns.

“And we haven’t,” he delightfully informed her. “Which makes us the better people, don’t you think? They can shoot us dead, but the moral high ground is ours.”

With that, he tugged her out of the TARDIS behind him and closed the door as casually as he could manage.

Honestly, with all of the emergency programs he had installed, why couldn’t he have made one to deal with this scenario? A program that would immediately take Jackie home and then bring the TARDIS right back - now that would be nifty.

They barely had a chance to look around before the soldiers surrounding them cocked their guns. He and Rose quickly raised their hands to prove they were unarmed.

Y’know what this reminds me of?, his wife casually asked across their connection.

What?

Utah, 2012.

The Doctor’s eyes swept the area as much as he could without moving his head. He could see her point.

Do you think they’d fire if I knocked on wood right now?, he asked her, just as a blonde woman in a suit rushed into the hanger.

“Oh! Oh, how marvelous!” she exclaimed, clapping.

I think she may’ve gone ‘round the bend, Rose laughed in his head as she fought back a confused smile.

The soldiers slowly began to lower their weapons as they joined in on the … clapping? Really, why were they clapping?

“Oh, very good. Superb. Happy day!”

Really, the Doctor felt inclined to agree with his bondmate on this one. Still, now that guns weren’t being pointed at them he was inclined to just go with it.

“Uhm, thanks. Nice to meet you,” he greeted. “I’m the Doctor, and this is my-”

Probably not the time to introduce me as your wife.

“- this is Rose.”

“Hello,” his wife waved with a wide grin that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh, I should say! Hurray!”

And there they went again with the clapping. Honestly, what the bloody hell was going on?

Think you’ve got more fans, Rose teased.

“You- you’ve heard of me, then?”

Really, where had his ship landed them?

“Well of course we have,” the overly enthusiastic woman replied. “And I have to say, if it wasn’t for you, none of us would be here! The Doctor and the TARDIS.” 

Everyone started clapping yet again. He was starting to get used to it, actually. It was kind of nice.

“And his companion, of course,” the woman continued.

Okay, not as nice. Then again, Rose was the one who didn’t want him to say she was his wife. Which was probably the smart thing to do, mid-invasion, but still. Just … didn’t feel right. As it was, she had had to cover her mouth with her hands in order to keep herself from laughing - out loud. Their bond was awash with her amusement. The Doctor found himself fighting the urge himself as he tried to politely make them stop.

“And- and- and you are?” he asked as the noise died down.

“Oh, plenty of time for that,” she evaded. Huh.

I think she thinks she’s the boss of you, his bondmate informed him.

She also thinks that I’m the boss ofyou, the Doctor couldn’t help but point out.

Bless.

“Aaaaaaanyway lead on, allons-y. Will there be nibbles?”

He fought the urge to take Rose’s hand as they followed the woman away from the TARDIS, surrounded by armed guards, stuffing his fists into his pockets. A moment later she tugged on his sleeve. The Doctor glanced over, taking out his hand when she rolled her eyes. Their fingers slotted together, perfect fit, as always.

We’ve been holding hands since the moment we met, she mentally chastised. Memories played across their bond.

She certainly wasn’t wrong.

Sorry, he told her, squeezing her hand. Not sure how to pretend to not be married, I guess.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rose smirk.

Well, I took off my ring. Think all we’ve got to do now is not say it outright.

Before he could properly respond, something on the tip of his tongue (or whatever the telepathic equivalent of that idiom might be) about how he could do a much better job than that, the mystery woman started talking.

“It was only a matter of time until you found us, and at last you’ve made it,” she said. “I’d like to welcome you, Doctor. Welcome to Torchwood.”

With that, she flung open the doors and they entered a massive warehouse. A massive warehouse that was full of alien technology. And since this definitely wasn’t UNIT, this was very, very not good.

Blimey , he told his wife, you’re right. This really is frighteningly similar to that bunker in Utah.

Gonna nip over to that crate and knock on wood?, Rose asked, only partially teasing.

He really was considering it, actually, but … (he peeked behind him at the armed soldiers following uncomfortably close) better not. Instead he focused on the spacecraft in front of them.

“That’s a Jathar Sunglider,” he realized.

“Came down to Earth off the Shetland Islands ten years ago,” the woman explained.

“What, did it crash?”

“No, we shot it down,” she stated. “It violated our airspace. Then we stripped it bare.” 

Oh, this was really not good. The Doctor tried to sense the timelines, but they were all still so jumbled and wrong that he couldn’t make out the consequences of it, this technology that Earth really shouldn’t have right now. Not yet.

“The weapon that destroyed the Sycorax on Christmas day?” the woman continued with pride, “That was us. Now, if you’d like to come with me.”

That’s what Harriet said, Rose realized, replaying the memory over the bond, Torchwood. I didn’t even think about it, though.

No, me either, he agreed as they were led further into the warehouse. Why hadn’t he noticed anything off before? He should have felt it. On Christmas, maybe not - he’d just regenerated. But apparently this organization has been active for at least a decade, if not longer.

“The Torchwood Institute has a motto - ‘If it’s alien, it’s ours’,” their ‘captor’ slash ‘tour guide’ explained. “Anything that comes from the sky, we strip it down and we use it for the good of the British Empire.”

“Excuse me, the what?” Rose interrupted.

“The British Empire,” the woman repeated, turning around and looking his bondmate up and down, sizing her up.

“There hasn’t been a British Empire in ages,” Rose informed her, and she wasn’t wrong.

“We’ll see,” their hostess replied, a little too condescending for his liking. “Ah, excuse me,” she continued as a soldier handed her a particle gun?! “Now if you wouldn’t mind. Do you recognize this, Doctor?”

“That’s a particle gun.”

Now that he was here, now that this had his full attention, the Doctor could feel the strain on the timelines. This whole building was a threat to the entire causal nexus. His wife held his hand tighter when he showed her just a smidge of it over their connection.

“Good, isn’t it?” the woman smiled, unaware of the impending disaster that he wasn’t yet sure how to fix. “Took us eight years to get it to work.”

“It’s the 21st century,” he calmly tried to explain. “You can’t have particle guns.”

“We must defend our border against the alien,” she replied, as if that somehow gave them a free pass.

The Doctor didn’t know what to say to that, which apparently was fine, as their guide wasn’t really paying attention anyway as she handed back the gun.

“Thank you, Sebastian, isn’t it?”

I think it’s best if we just, you know, let her talk, he told Rose, studiously not looking directly at her - and really, there was a lot to take in, the warehouse was packed with advanced tech. Much too advanced.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Think she’ll give us an evil monologue?

Well, I don’t think she’s evil, he admitted. I think she’s … some sort of, I don’t know, business woman? I think she truly believes that what they’re doing here is good . Which makes them even more dangerous.

It would also make stopping them even more difficult.

“Thank you, Sebastian.”

He refocused as she turned back to them.

“I think it’s very important to know everyone by name,” she said. “Torchwood is a very modern organization. People skills. That’s what it’s all about these days. I’m a people person.”

Well that’s … nice?, Rose commented across the bond as she gave the woman a very forced grin.

“Have you got anyone called Alonso?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“No, I don’t think so. Is that important?”

Eh, oh well. It was kind of nice, though, having her asking a question for once.

“No, I suppose not,” the Doctor replied, just as he noticed a crate of Magnaclamps. He’d always wanted some, hadn’t gotten around to it, though. “What was your name?”

“Yvonne,” she told them (finally). “Yvonne Hartman.”

He let go of his wife’s hand, giving into the urge to inspect a clamp.

“Ah, yes,” Yvonne said with a smile. “Now, we’re very fond of these. The Magnaclamp. Found in a spaceship buried at the base of Mount Snowdon. Attach this to an object and it cancels the mass,” she explained, as if he didn’t already know. “I could use it to lift two tonnes of weight with a single hand. That’s an imperial ton, by the way. Torchwood refuses to go metric.”

Of course they do, Rose scoffed over the bond. British Empire, I mean really.

“Well, that’s handy,” is what she said aloud as he tossed the clamp back into the crate, wandering away to try to get a better idea of all of the other alien technology they’d managed to scavenge, commandeer or steal. His wife wandered in the opposite direction, giving him a second set of eyes even if she didn’t know what everything was. It really was a devastating amount, and the Doctor had to assume that this wasn’t all of it.

Really, it was about time they got back on track.

“So, what about the ghosts?” he asked.

“Ah, yes, the ghosts. They’re, er, what you might call a side effect,” Yvonne admitted.

“Of what?”

“All in good time, Doctor. There is an itinerary, trust me.”

Ugh, of all the things to add to this no-good-very-bad-day, he was stuck on a tour. With an itinerary.

It was his personal hell, really.

And to make it even worse, there went the TARDIS on the back of a lorry.

“An itinerary?” Rose scoffed. “And what are you lot doing with the TARDIS?!” My mum’s in there!

Oh, seriously?! He’d just managed to forget that they’d left Jackie Tyler unsupervised on the ship. Really, truly, worst day ever.

Seriously? Could you just grow up and get some perspective?, his wife snarled over their connection.

“If it’s alien, it’s ours,” Yvonne replied confidently.

“You’ll never get inside it,” he told her with just as much confidence, if not more.

“Hmm, et cetera.”

Once she turned away, they both glanced back at their ship to see Rose’s mum peek out through the doors - which he distinctly remembered telling her to keep shut.

Really, why did no one ever listen? He didn’t understand it.

With a sigh, and all of his unflattering thoughts about his mother-in-law safely behind a barrier, the Doctor turned away to continue their ‘tour’. At least the ghosts were on the itinerary. So this day had to turn ‘round at some point … right?

Chapter Text

They left the warehouse through a dingy corridor, which the Doctor suspected was actually a tunnel. The air felt stale and damp despite the ventilation shafts running above them. Plus, Yvonne was currently silent, not giving them an enthusiastic description of where they were or where they were going - likely an attempt to disorient them. Cheeky, really.

“All those times I’ve been to Earth, I’ve never heard of you,” he told her, mostly trying to figure out how that was even possible, and partly because hearing nothing but their echoing footsteps was starting to get on his nerves.

Rose was quiet, both verbally and in his head, as she continuously looked around them. Being escorted by armed guards through a creepy tunnel was putting her on edge. He squeezed her hand, but had a difficult time trying to project reassurance across their bond.

“But of course not. You’re the enemy,” Yvonne said. “You’re actually named in the Torchwood Foundation Charter of 1879 as an enemy of the Crown.”

Wait, 1879?! Torchwood, 1879.

“1879,” the Doctor repeated aloud this time. “That was called Torchwood, that house in Scotland.”

Just you?!, Rose exclaimed, outrage flitting through their connection. They don’t even mention me? Oh, that is just- just typical Victorian. I bet it’s because you said you bought me or whatever. I was just- just a thing. Good enough to be knighted and banished, but don’t get even a teeny tiny mention on this Charter of theirs?

I’m sorry, do you want to be declared an enemy of the crown?, he asked her. While he was able to keep his amusement off of his face, it was very apparent over the bond.

“That’s right,” Yvonne was saying, “where you encountered Queen Victoria and the werewolf.”

“I guess she really was NOT amused,” Rose quipped.

“Her Majesty created the Torchwood Institute with the express intention of keeping Britain great, and fighting the alien horde,” Yvonne informed them.

Suppose it’s best that I wasn’t mentioned, his wife admitted over the bond. Imagine what would’ve happened if Torchwood did know about me and snatched me up, took me prisoner or something before we even met?

She actually made a very good point.

“But if I’m the enemy, does that mean that I’m a prisoner?” the Doctor asked, more than a little worried.

Earth during this time, from his perspective? Mostly harmless. Torchwood, however, had an awful lot of very not-harmless extraterrestrial technology. And while they couldn’t get into the TARDIS and couldn’t actually stop him from sensing where she was, they did seem to have a sporting chance of keeping them from reaching her.

“Oh yes,” Yvonne answered as they made a sharp turn and exited the tunnel to stop abruptly in front of a heavily enforced door. “But we’ll make you perfectly comfortable. And there is so much you can teach us. Starting with this.”

The door slid open and she led them into what appeared to be some sort of laboratory. 

“Now, what do you make of that?” she asked, not needing to be any more specific. There was no way that he couldn’t know what she was referring to, the way the sphere was hovering at the end of the narrow space, every single piece of equipment in the room trained on it. And it was decidedly wrong. More wrong than the ghosts, than Torchwood’s existence, than … anything on the planet , really.

The Doctor couldn’t take his eyes off it.

All of his senses were going haywire, forcing him to block out most of the bond in order to shield Rose from just how- how awful this thing was.

“You must be the Doctor,” he was dimly aware that someone was speaking to him. “Rajesh Singh. It’s an honor, sir.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, still unable to look away from the sphere.

The timelines were tangling up around it, some passing over it as if the sphere didn’t exist, others indicating direct consequences of its future actions, or inaction - who knows. But those timelines were the only real sign, aside from the fact that he could see it, that his senses were giving him to prove that it did, in fact, exist at all.

“What is that?” his bondmate asked, dropping his hand. “It’s- it’s-”

“We got no idea,” Yvonne had no qualms to admit.

The Doctor shut down even more of the bond (a difficult feat), activating senses that he rarely used and was sure would only serve to give Rose a headache (or worse) if they leeched over to her. He had some ideas, none of them good, but still needed to narrow it down.

“It’s wrong,” his wife proclaimed.

“What makes you think there’s something wrong with it?” he vaguely heard the bloke - Rajesh - ask her.

“I … I can’t … I think I might be sick.”

His attention snapped back to his bondmate and the Doctor opened the bond a little bit more, as much he safely felt he could, attempting to comfort her while also determining exactly what she was sensing from the sphere. Rose was still new to telepathy, really, and there was a possibility that other senses were activating as well. Unfortunately, he also needed to figure out what the sphere really was, and couldn’t focus the majority of his attention on his wife as he walked up to the platform. All he could safely ascertain, without going too deep into her mind to focus on the task at hand, was that she wasn’t truly ill and that her mind wasn’t in any danger.

“Well, the sphere has that effect on everyone,” Yvonne said. “Makes you want to run and hide, like it’s forbidden.”

“We tried analyzing it using every device imaginable,” Rajesh explained as the Doctor re-blocked the bond and put on his 3D specs, hoping for once that he was wrong. “But according to our instruments, the sphere doesn’t exist.”

Oh, why couldn’t he have been wrong? The sphere was so steeped in Void particles that it almost looked as though it was made of the stuff.

Yvonne had said that the ghosts were a side effect. He was starting to get an idea of what may have happened.

“It weighs nothing,” Rajesh continued, “it doesn’t age. No heat, no radiation, and has no atomic mass.”

“But everyone can see it,” Rose pointed out in disbelief. “Touch it, I’m assuming. It’s there.”

“Fascinating, isn’t it? It upsets people because it gives off nothing. It is absent.”

The Doctor couldn’t stop looking at it. It was … well, obviously it wasn’t impossible, but it should be.

“Well, Doctor?” Yvonne asked, snapping him out of it.

“This is a Void Ship,” he admitted, refocusing on the weakening barriers he’d erected around their bond, trying to reinforce them in order to keep his anxiety and fear from crossing over. The blocks wouldn’t last much longer, the mental energy to keep them in place would be too great, but he just needed a little more time to get a handle on himself. They would figure this all out. They had to.

“And what is that?”

He could feel his wife attempting to reach him and hated that he was keeping her out. But really, they needed to avoid the inevitable negative feedback loop, especially since he had to do his best to appear calm and collected in front of these people. The Doctor took off his glasses, but still couldn’t stop looking at the ship.

“Well, it’s impossible for starters,” he told them, unable to think of a better word. “I always thought it was just a theory, but it’s a vessel designed to exist outside of time and space, traveling through the Void.”

Finally able to rip his gaze away from the sphere, he turned away, sitting down on the stairs leading up to the platform. Yvonne and Rajesh were quick to flank him, forcing Rose to squeeze past them in order to sit next to him. The Doctor put his arm around her automatically, and his barriers crumbled away. It was easier to keep himself calm (well, more calm) now that he wasn’t looking at the thing.

“And what’s the Void?” Rajesh asked.

It’s the space between parallel worlds, yeah?, his bondmate confirmed, attempting to send soothing waves of reassurance across their connection and dutifully not complaining about being cut off.

“The space between dimensions,” he explained to the others after mentally agreeing with his wife. “There’s all sorts of realities around us, different dimensions, billions of parallel universes all stacked up against each other. The Void is the space in between, containing absolutely nothing. Imagine that - nothing. No light, no dark, no up, no down, no life, no time.” The Doctor actually found himself feeling better, giving them a heavily edited lecture, separating himself from all of the potential ramifications for a moment. But only for a moment, before dread began to claw back up his spine. “My people called it the Void. The Eternals call it the Howling. But some people call it Hell.”

“But someone built the sphere,” Rajesh pointed out. “What for? Why go there?”

Oh, he did love it when people asked the important questions.

“To explore?” he hazarded. “To escape? You could sit inside that thing and eternity would pass you by. The Big Bang, end of the Universe, start of the next, wouldn’t even touch the sides. You’d exist outside the whole of creation.”

In a rare moment of complete synchronicity, he and Rose both thought of the Beast in the pit.

The Doctor hadn’t thought it possible, but the Void Ship suddenly seemed even more sinister.

Before time.

Perhaps a being could exist before time … if they crawled out of the Void. But how would that even work? He wanted to convince himself that it was impossible - had to be. But …

It doesn’t matter, Rose chimed in, easily getting his attention. We stopped him. Whatever’s in that thing, it isn’t that.

She seemed so certain of this that the Doctor couldn’t help but believe her.

“You see, we were right,” Yvonne said, smugly. “There is something inside there.”

“Oh, yes,” he agreed, frowning deeply as she smiled on.

His bondmate was now thinking of a different memory from Krop Tor. What the Beast had predicted for her.

The valiant child, who will die in battle so very soon.

He could feel the beginnings of the negative feedback loop that he’d been trying so hard to prevent.

I told you, it was wrong, the Doctor insisted, trying to project his complete certainty of this fact. Their timelines were entwined - it was all or nothing. And he still didn’t trust what he’d glimpsed at the Olympics, couldn’t allow that kind of hope to blind him of the danger of their current situation, but he played the memory for her anyway. He needed her to believe it. They just needed to get through this.

“So, how do we get in there?” Rajesh asked.

Oh, how he hated it when people asked the wrong questions.

“We don’t!” he ordered, launching himself up off the platform. “We send that thing back into Hell. How did it get here in the first place?”

There would have to be a tear in the fabric of reality for it to come through now that his people were gone. And he was going to have to figure out how to close it before it got bigger.

A tear in the fabric of reality?!, Rose shouted in his mind as she got up to follow him.

“Well, that’s how it all started,” Yvonne unknowingly saved him from having to respond to his seething wife. “The sphere came through into this world and the ghosts followed in its wake.”

“Show me,” the Doctor demanded, voice clipped as he took Rose’s hand and marched out of the room.

You’ve known about this Void stuff the whole bloody time, she continued complaining over the bond. Why the HELL didn’t you say something sooner?

I didn’t want to worry you unless I had to, he admitted. When it was just those ghosts, I thought that maybe it would be a simple fix. But that ship is corporeal. It made it properly through. The ghosts haven’t, so I thought I might just be dealing with a potential crack in the Universe. An almost crack. Like when you drop a mug and it gets a tiny hairline fracture. It hasn’t actually broken, just damaged enough that bacteria can get caught in it. You shouldn’t really drink out of it anymore if you can help it, but if you wanted to you could still use it to store pencils.

They took a left and barely made it past the door before he heard Yvonne shout, “No, Doctor.”

He quickly pivoted, accidentally dragging his bondmate in a circle, and then purposefully held his head high as they walked past the door again.

So the ship broke the mug, then, Rose continued as Yvonne and one of the soldiers caught up to them.

Yup. The metaphor kind of falls apart a bit after that, though. I’ll think of something better, just give us a tick. And … I’m sorry. It’s not like I thought you couldn’t handle it or anything.

They were directed to a lift, and as soon as they got inside his bondmate let go of his hand and crossed her arms.

Honestly, the Doctor pleaded across their bond, I was hoping that I was wrong. That it just appeared like they’d crossed the Void.

She glanced his way before eyeing the screen that was tracking their progress up the floors at a rate that was much faster than he could recall lifts being in this time period. The further up they went, the more his senses were screaming at him that things were not right. Timelines were twisting into strange shapes, and what was an occasional flicker everywhere else was more like a strobe as they shifted in and out of existence. The Doctor felt increasingly grateful that the barriers around his senses were much stronger than the rest.

You really weren’t trying to keep me out of some plan you’re cookin’?

Absolutely not, he hastily agreed. Me? A plan? Bold of you to think I have one.

His bondmate covered her mouth with a hand as her laughter rang out over their connection. Much better. Well, relatively. They were still in the middle of a gigantic potentially-Universe-ending catastrophe, but who said he couldn’t still appreciate the little things?

Yvonne led them out at the 45th floor - the very top of the building. Or maybe skyscraper was a better word.

“Right this way, then,” she said, and while Yvonne had started off leading them, they soon matched her pace - the breach was so large that there was no way the Doctor could have missed it even without the escort. 

Within moments they turned a corner and there it was. Dormant, but there.

“The sphere came through here,” Yvonne stated. “A hole in the world.”

The Doctor dropped Rose’s hand as he approached the tear. Even in its current state, he could tell how large it was - that it had been growing. He reached up a hand, tracing its edge. Tingly. Tingly, but the bad kind. His hairs stood on end.

Is that safe? His wife’s worry coated their bond.

It’s fine, he assured her. It’s closed … for now.

“Not active at the moment,” Yvonne continued, “but when we fire particle engines at that exact spot, the breach opens up.”

So they made the hole, then? Why?!

He could tell that his bondmate was wondering the exact same thing.

“How did you even find it?” the Doctor asked, deciding to start at the beginning (so to speak), as he backed away to look at the rip in reality in its entirety.

“We were getting warning signs for years. A radar black spot. So we built this place, Torchwood Tower. The breach was six hundred feet above sea level. It was the only way to reach it,” Yvonne answered as he put on his 3D glasses.

Oh. Oh. The edges were steeped in just as much Void particles as the ship - which was just about what he’d been thinking, but still. Anticipating and then seeing were two very different things. He didn’t want to see what it was like when active. It should have never been active.

Do they just have an unlimited budget, then? Country spending all it’s money on this?

The Doctor could tell that his wife wasn’t actually talking to him, but the thought was quite loud and quite irritated. He glanced back to see Rose standing a few feet behind him with her arms crossed, frowning as she glared at the back of Yvonne Hartman’s head.

“You built a skyscraper just to reach a spatial disturbance?” he couldn’t help but ask. “How much money have you got?”

“Enough,” Yvonne blithely answered before walking away.

Well, that was … fair? He never had figured out all of the rules for money, especially for talking about money. Humans were just so … so weird. The Doctor took off his glasses and tried not to roll his eyes.

“Look who’s talking,” Rose whispered in his ear.

“Oh, speaking aloud now, are we?” he muttered back.

“Mmhmm,” she responded with a cheeky grin. “Gonna let me try out your 3D glasses? Aren’t these from when we saw It Came from Outer Space after the last time we failed to see Elvis?” Turns out third time isn’t the charm.

This time the Doctor really did roll his eyes as he passed his bondmate the glasses. It really shouldn’t be this difficult to see Elvis Presley, really it-

He stopped himself from going down that train of thought. Much more important things to think about. Rose tilted her head as she stared at the breach, then turned toward him. Her jaw dropped.

“Doc-”

“Come on now, Doctor,” Yvonne called before Rose could finish her sentence.

“Yup! Coming!”

They both turned and followed their ‘tour guide’ away from the rip in the multiverse, his wife passing back the glasses as they went.

Why are those black things all over you, too? The, er, Void stuff, Rose asked over the bond.

They’re also on you. We’ve been through, remember? But we’ve just got a light dusting. Everything else, you can barely see the thing for the Void, he explained as they caught up with Yvonne only to be led into an office.

Rose paused by a window, pressing her face up against the glass as she looked down at the streets below them, while the Doctor … for lack of a better way to phrase it … wandered off. It was different, though! The rule was for Rose not to wander away from him. That didn’t mean he couldn’t wander away from … uptight know-it-all heads of shadow organizations. Whom his wife was- was guarding. While he investigated!

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of interest going on at the moment. And everyone was ignoring him. He was able to get a good look at their equipment, though, so at least there was that. It was simple enough, but he doubted he’d have enough time to dismantle it before a bunch of soldiers with guns came and stopped him.

“Oh!” he heard Rose exclaim from around the corner. “Look, we’re in Canary Wharf!”

The Doctor quickly placed them in his mental map of London. Good to know. He wasn’t yet sure why it would be good to know, but it couldn’t hurt. The ‘ghosts’ were everywhere, so it wouldn’t help with that, but if he needed to contact UNIT at any point, they would need to know his position.

“Well, that is the public name for it,” Yvonne was saying as he headed back toward them. “But to those in the know, it’s Torchwood.”

Right then. And now they were in the know, so it was time they listened.

“So,” he began as soon as he entered the room, “you find the breach, probe it, the sphere comes through six hundred feet above London, bam! It leaves a hole in the fabric of reality. And that hole, you think, oh, shall we leave it alone? Shall we back off? Shall we play it safe? Nah, you think let’s make it bigger!”

“It’s a massive source of energy,” Yvonne justified. “If we can harness that power, we need never depend on the Middle East again. Britain will become truly independent. Look, you can see for yourself. Next Ghost Shift’s in two minutes.”

She began leading them away, yet again, and he was tired of the tour.

“Cancel it,” he ordered as Yvonne walked past.

She’s not gonna listen to ya, his bondmate oh-so-helpfully pointed out.

“I don’t think so.”

The timelines were stretching taught all around him, blinking in and out even faster. He’d experienced temporal tipping points, he’d experienced fixed points, but he’d never experienced something like this. It was fraying his every nerve and it was taking most of his mental energy just to keep the effects of the anomaly from leaching across the bond.

“I’m warning you, cancel it,” he snarled. Why couldn’t she just listen? Why couldn’t she see that her actions right here, right now, could stop the Universe from being ripped apart?!

Rose, unaware of his mental turmoil, recoiled slightly, eyes widening. He could feel her prodding around the bond, trying to get further into his mind, asking what was wrong and baffled at his lack of response.

No no no no no. Not right now, not when he was constantly erecting and re-erecting barriers. It would be too much, if she got in his head fully. Too much, too much, too much.

Yvonne Hartman spun around, showing some real emotion for the first time since they landed at her precious headquarters that she had no idea may as well be a tomb.

“Oh, exactly as the legends would have it,” she said, voice dripping with condescension. “The Doctor, lording it over us, assuming alien authority over the Rights of Man.”

“Let me show you,” the Doctor panted, racing back behind a glass wall just as he succeeded in forcibly pushing Rose out of his head. Their bond went silent. A sinking feeling permeated his being, but … later. He’d deal with it later, explain later. One problem at a bloody time. “Sphere comes through,” he announced, pulling out his sonic and pointing it at the glass, making sure Hartman watched as it splintered around the initial impact site. “But when it made the hole, it cracked the world around it. The entire surface of this dimension splintered. And that’s how the ghosts get through. That’s how they get everywhere. They’re bleeding through the fault lines. Walking from their world, across the Void, and into yours, with the human race hoping and wishing and helping them along. But too many ghosts, and-” he gently poked the glass wall and the whole thing shattered onto the floor.

For a moment, everyone was silent. Maybe he’d gotten through to her.

“Well,” she finally said, “in that case, we’ll have to be more careful.”

He glanced at Rose, meeting her eyes for only a moment before she swallowed and looked away.

“Positions! Ghost Shift in one minute!”

In a few long strides, the Doctor avoided most of the glass, fully ready to beg.

“Miss Hartman, I am asking you, please don’t do it.”

“You’re putting everyone in danger,” his bondmate chimed in, and he didn’t like the panic and desperation in her voice, so he didn’t dare turn and try to look at her again. Seeing Rose upset wasn’t going to help. “Not just London or Britain, but the whole world! Maybe the whole Universe!”

“We have done this a thousand times!” Yvonne shot back, as if that somehow made it better.

“Then stop at a thousand!” he shouted, timelines strobing in and out so quickly that he could barely think straight, barriers beginning to crumble and he didn’t have the energy left to build more, not if he wanted to figure out how to stop whatever Miss Hartman seemed determined to start.

“We’re in control of the ghosts,” she tried to convince him. “The levers can open the breach, but equally they can close it.”

The Doctor stared at her, and came to a decision, though not the most ethical one. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures, and since he was no longer using all of his telepathic energy to keep his wife from stumbling into the minefield that was his mind, he could do something else. He could project towards Miss Yvonne Hartman. She worked right next to the breach, which means her brain was likely primed for this sort of thing. Universe ending? Fine. Fine. Let her end it, then. But could she make that call? Would she be able to live with herself … whether she lived at all?

“Okay,” he said brightly, breaking eye contact once the suggestion was made and practically skipping back toward the office.

“Sorry?” Yvonne asked, just as confused as he figured she’d be.

“Never mind. As you were,” the Doctor smiled, grabbing the nearest chair and rolling it over towards where Rose was standing, still preternaturally silent in his head despite the fact that his barriers were now almost non-existent.

“What, is that it?”

“No, fair enough. Said my bit, don’t mind me,” he replied, taking a seat and turning toward the nearest worker. “Any chance for a cup of tea?”

The woman at the desk ignored him, but she did turn toward Miss Hartman and announce, “Ghost Shift in twenty seconds.”

“Mmm, can’t wait to see it,” the Doctor said, over exaggerating his excitement, his clenched fists the only thing giving him away.

“You can’t stop us, Doctor,” Yvonne declared, though it didn’t seem like her heart was in it. Good.

“No, absolutely not,” he agreed, crossing his arms. “Come here, Rose. Come and watch the fireworks.”

His bondmate finally walked over to him, and he was quick to weave their fingers together. And just like that, every barrier he had, even the ones that were normally easy to maintain, fell away as if they’d never existed in the first place. Her eyes widened, a barely audible gasp escaping before she moved even closer, stumbling before taking a seat on his lap.

I thought-

She didn’t give him time to finish the thought.

Sod it! If this is as long as our forever might be, I’m not gonna spend it pretending that we’re not together, her mental voice a disconcerting mix of defiance, anger, sorrow, and fear.

“Ghost shift in ten seconds,” the woman at the computer announced.

Rose’s grip on his hand tightened.

“Nine.”

The Doctor locked eyes with Miss. Hartman.

“Eight.”

He could see the fear there, just under the surface.

“Seven.”

He raised his eyebrows, daring her.

“Six.”

I love you, Rose’s mental voice whispered across the bond, tentative, afraid to mess up the game of chicken he’d started, but also desperate with the need to tell him.

“Five.”

I love you too, the Doctor replied, squeezing her hand, eyes still never leaving Yvonne’s, grin still plastered on his face.

“Four.”

It was a staring contest, with the entire Universe at stake, and he could tell that the fact that he didn’t actually have to blink was beginning to unnerve her.

“Three.”

C’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon !

“Two.”

His respiratory bypass kicked in, though his smile didn’t falter.

The word ‘one’ was about to pass through the worker’s lips.

“Stop the shift,” Yvonne ordered. “I said stop.”

“Thank you,” he said, managing to not let on just how worried he’d been there for a second.

“Yeah,” Rose seconded, “thank you.”

“I suppose it makes sense to get as much intelligence as possible,” Yvonne said, visibly shaken though doing a pretty good job of trying to hide it from her employees. “But the program will recommence, as soon as you’ve explained everything.”

“We’re glad to be of help,” the Doctor replied, not wanting to push her any farther. It wasn’t safe to use telepathy around humans at the best of times, and his mind was all over the place.

What?!, his wife screeched in his head.

Not you, he quickly backpedalled. We’ve been over this, remember? You’ve got the activated genes for it.

Not that, you plum! You went in her head?!

“And someone clear up this glass,” Miss. Hartman was saying, interrupting the silent row that was starting up between them. “They did warn me, Doctor. They said you like to make a mess.”

“They’re not wrong there,” Rose agreed, standing up awfully primly and crossing her arms.

The Doctor pouted up at her.

I wasn’t in her head, it was just a projected suggestion. Just- just like really loudly thinking in her direction, he tried to explain. I’m a touch telepath, I can’t properly enter another mind without direct contact. Well, aside from you, obviously.

And that works? Thinking loudly at someone?, his bondmate scoffed over their connection, disbelief apparent.

When you’re a telepath? Yes. Sometimes.

And in his case, with great difficulty. Really, he’d just gotten lucky.

It was just luck?

The Doctor sighed before finally standing, forced to move out of the way by the workers who had arrived surprisingly quickly to clean up the glass. Right, no barriers at all now, and no mental energy to make more. Rose obviously still had her own, since he wasn’t getting a stream of endless random thoughts and feelings. Well, this was going to be embarrassing. Actually-

Do you have a headache right now?, he asked her, briefly glancing at the workers around them before taking her hand. The ones that were obviously part of the Ghost Shift program had started typing on their computers again.

No, not really.

How’s that?

It didn’t make sense. He felt awful, the Void and the shifting, snarled up timelines constantly grating at his senses.

I mean, for a second there I thought I might pass out, but then I just kind of … I dunno, turned off the weird stuff?

And oh, how he wished he could figure out exactly what she meant by that, but now - unfortunately - wasn’t the time. Glass taken care of, Yvonne was now entering her office, nodding at them to follow. They both glanced back at the wall where the Void sat, waiting.

“C’mon,” his wife whispered, finally giving him a smile as she grabbed the chair and pushed it in front of her.

His gratitude, the Doctor was sure, must have been abundantly apparent. He took a deep breath before they both followed Yvonne into her office. Rose took a seat in what had been his chair, so the Doctor took the other.

“No,” Miss. Hartman was quick to correct, hands on her hips, “that’s my seat. We’ll get another.”

He turned to his wife just in time to see her rolling her eyes while failing to suppress a grin. Yvonne made the request, and by the time he walked around the desk again, a worker was rolling another chair in. They were quite efficient, he’d give them that. Then again, they had still not managed to get him his tea, so …

They’re not getting paid to listen to you, Rose commented. They’d be paid to bring Yvonne Hartman tea. 

The Doctor smiled at her sarcasm as he got comfortable in his new chair, putting his feet up on the desk and leaning back. Blimey, he was tired.

“So these ghosts, whatever they are,” Yvonne asked, getting straight back into it, “did they build the sphere?”

“Must have,” he replied, not that he really knew. “Aimed it at this dimension like a cannonball.”

Though if the ‘ghosts’ were following in the void ship’s wake, he was partly curious and mostly terrified to find out what was actually inside the craft. Hopefully just more of whatever the ghosts really were, but possibly some sort of weapon. Who knew? Hopefully they would never have to find out.

Rose began chewing at a fingernail, looking out the window.

“And the energy?”

He raised both eyebrows, though wasn’t completely surprised that these humans would gladly siphon power even while not understanding how it was being generated. Problem was, they shouldn’t be able to do any of it and wouldn’t be able to do any of it without the alien technology they had stolen. Timelines strobed in and out, faster and faster and faster.

“I could use some energy,” the Doctor replied. “Quite the day I’ve been having. Where is that tea?”

His wife took his hand, weaving their fingers together as Miss. Hartman gazed skyward for a moment before (finally) ordering the tea.

Is there anything I can do to help?,  Rose asked.

I doubt it. Since you can’t sense all of this, and I would not want to show you, it’s not as if I can even-

Before he could finish the thought, his mind was suddenly full of Rose and light and love and over half of his senses cut off. There were no more tangling timelines blinking in and out of existence - there were no more timelines at all . 

The Doctor blinked, trying not to panic.

Yvonne said something, but he wasn’t sure what. Wasn’t paying attention, as he realized that his wife wasn’t in his head. 

No.

She had pulled him into hers.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked, wiggling his fingers in front of his face. It was so strange. His mind was still in his body, but yet … not? There was a slight lag between thought and action - about 5 picoseconds. 

You are amazing, he exclaimed over the bond.

Rose grinned, mind radiating smugness.

How did you even figure out how to do this?

They certainly hadn’t gone over it during any of their telepathy lessons. And he hadn’t yet had the chance to look for more specific information, being as he’d only just found out how it all worked. 

I don’t know, Rose’s mental voice admitted, uncertainty coating the words. I just kinda imagined what I wanted to do and then … I don’t know.

Blimey, she was going to be a much stronger telepath than he was.

“I asked what you would have us do if you had your way. You said send it back, but how exactly do you propose we do that?”

Ah. Good question. And where things got downright complicated (not that they weren’t already). The Doctor gave Rose’s hand a squeeze and then let go, wanting to determine if touch was a factor in this newfound ability of hers? Theirs? He wasn’t sure, had only ever done anything remotely similar when invasively telepathically connected with someone, touching their psi-points. This was much, much different.

The connection held.

And most importantly, for the moment - overall it was completely unsustainable, not having access to most of his senses - he could think clearly.

“I’ll need access to your equipment, and a comprehensive list of exactly what alien technologies you have at your disposal, because there’s a chance you may have what I need to properly seal and contain excess void particles. And I’ll need the TARDIS.”

“A comprehensive list? Hah! Nice try, Doctor. The relevant equipment, I may be able to allow.”

“May?”

“Torchwood serves Queen and Country, and there are calls I would have to make.” Now she didn’t look amused.

“Make them,” he urged.

“And when they ask about the energy?” she requested, eyebrows raised.

Calculations raced through his head.

“Well, there’d have to be energy sending them back. So you’d have that, right?” Rose piped in before he could compare the results with historical precedence - took longer without his time senses.

Point was, his wife was right, pretty much. And now wasn’t really the time to get picky. They were going to have to compromise.

“A lot of energy in the transfer,” he agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “Run the maths yourself, but reversing all of the particles will take up the energy of key commands, power usage normal, and the energy created by all of the particles reversing at once would be massive. Long term may not be what you wanted, but I also doubt you wanted to annihilate the planet and potentially destroy all of reality, so …”

The Doctor shrugged.

Got a little rude, there, Rose oh so helpfully pointed out.

“We’ll just have to see what they say,” Yvonne said, though she didn’t look convinced, even as she began typing quickly on her computer.

You’ve got to admit, at least it’s progress, he had to point out.

Yvonne looked away from her computer, immediately turning toward the ghost shift control area right outside.

“Excuse me?” she called, getting up from her desk, “Everyone? I thought I said ‘stop the ghost shift’.”

Both he and Rose turned toward where she was now shouting out of the doorway.

“Who started the program?”

Not a single person was reacting. The Doctor stood up, taking his wife’s hand as they slowly followed Miss. Hartman out of her office. This was not good not good not good, and he could really use access to a few more senses right about now.

“But I ordered you to stop? Who’s doing this? Right, step away from the monitors, everyone.”

I’ve not exactly trapped you here, y’know, Rose pointed out, thoughts laced with anxiety as she looked from person to person, blankly typing at their monitors.

“Gareth, Addy, stop what you’re doing right now,” Yvonne ordered, the words having no effect. “Matt, step away from your desk.”

The Doctor stretched his awareness, finding that he had more energy than he thought he’d had as he tentatively shifted across their bond, the action feeling like simply walking through a door in his own mind for all of the effort it took. With great care, he was able to selectively access more of his senses without too much discomfort from all of his time senses.

“Matt, step away from your desk! That’s an order!” Yvonne shouted, and he now sensed her building panic. “Stop the levers! Andrew!”

Workers ran in, trying to manually stop the levers without much success.

He could sense nothing from the employees controlling the program. 

“Look at their ears,” Rose breathed, memories from their own trip across the void engulfing the part of his awareness still resting deeply within her mind. 

Their ears.

He listened for another moment before pinpointing the one typing the fastest.

“What’s she doing?” the Doctor wondered aloud as he marched over to the one who Rose identified as Addy, making note of how deeply connected they still were but unable to properly address it. Didn’t have the time.

“Addy, step away from the desk,” Yvonne urged as both she and Rose followed him.

He snapped his fingers in front of Addy’s eyes, not getting a single reaction. 

No one home.

“Listen to me,” Yvonne continued as Rose stifled a gasp before turning and waving her hand in front of the man across the aisle, “Step away from the desk - oh! The call’s connected!”

“She can’t hear you anyway,” he told her, dread forming in the pit of his stomach as he turned toward the monitor. “They’re overriding the system. We’re going into ghost shift.”

With great reluctance, well aware that the results would be exceedingly unpleasant, the Doctor reactivated his time senses. Because he needed to know what exactly was happening in order to fully monitor the situation.

“Hello, this is Torchwood One, calling mayday, threat level alpha, activation code eight- four- delta- whisky- zero- seven- foxtrot,” Yvonne recited over her comm.

Sensations slammed into him all at once, timelines knotted together and breaking off, the spin of the planet speeding up and slowing down at a rate unnoticeable to the humans. He zeroed in on the devices attached to Addy’s ears. 

“It’s the ear piece,” he bit out, swiftly becoming overwhelmed by the activating void but unable to retreat. He couldn’t afford the luxury. “It’s controlling them. I’ve seen this before.”

Of all the parallel worlds, really.

“Situation is dire,” Hartman continued into the phone. “We are requesting backup immediately. The Ghost Shift has been compromised, the Doctor is assisting.”

Hey, that’s where Mickey is, his wife pointed out even as she placed a hand between his shoulder blades, offering him comfort for what would have to come next. With great reluctance, the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He sonicked Addy’s ear pod, and within moments she and all of the other partially converted Torchwood employees screamed before collapsing at their desks.

“What happened?” Yvonne demanded, eyes wide in terror as she likely realized she’d lost complete control over the situation - welcome to his world, really. Typical Tuesday, that. “What did you just do?”

“They’re dead,” he informed her, not having time to sugar coat it.

Despite their connected minds, Rose reached down and felt around for Addy’s pulse point.

“Is it really …” his wife paused, finding herself unable to say it all out loud. “Again, but here? Or …”

The Doctor could feel her mind racing as he attempted to gain control of the ghost shift program. Yvonne’s attention returned to her call, though he stopped paying attention.

“I think I know exactly where they’re coming from,” he admitted, loathe to be the one to confirm her fears, but unwilling (not to mention completely unable) to lie to her.

“But … Mickey was- and Jake, and-”

An image of her parallel father flashed through both their minds as Rose clenched her jaw.

Every sense the Doctor had was positively screaming as the seconds ticked on by and the tear widened.

“We’ll figure it out,” he near shouted as it all became too much. 

Just as he managed to apologize mentally, Rose seemed to breach his mind even as a large portion of his consciousness remained in hers. The pain seemed to dull, sensations cushioned by the added presence.

Please, please tell me you can’t feel this, he found himself pleading, both grateful for the respite and horrified that the pain might simply be being transferred.

M’fine, his bondmate assured him. I’m just trying to help you make barriers.

Oh.

Well.

Huh.

While he had helped her construct some in their initial training, the Doctor had to admit that the sensation of someone doing it for him was novel.

“They’re patching into our systems. What are those ear pieces?” Yvonne asked.

“Don’t,” he ordered as he continued entering commands into the system. It wasn’t overly complex, but the time crunch was a bit of an ask. As much as he wanted to spare her the horror, he couldn’t afford to make time for sentiment.

“But they’re standard comms devices,” Miss. Hartman insisted as Rose stepped away from the desk, getting a better look at the levers.

“Trust me, leave them alone,” the Doctor insisted as he raced over to another terminal.

“But what are they?” he heard her ask, but ignored the question.

There were multiple universes on the line, after all. And nothing he tried was working.

“Ugh!” Yvonne’s exclaimed. “Oh, God!” He had warned her. “It goes inside their brain!”

“What about the Ghost Shift?” he asked, needing their host-slash-captor back on track. The Doctor looked up from the monitor at the bright, terrifying tear in spacetime opening up mere feet away from them all.

“Ninety percent there and still running,” she replied, quickly joining him at the desk. “Can’t you stop it?”

“They’re still controlling it, they’ve hijacked the system,” the Doctor quickly explained, standing up and pulling out his sonic screwdriver.

“Who’s they?” Yvonne asked, and nope! No time to get into that.

“It might be a remote transmitter,” he continued as he scanned the area, “but it’s got to be close by. I can trace it.”

With that, he ran, following the signal, dimly aware that Yvonne Hartman was tagging along. 

“Keep those levers down,” she ordered as they raced out of the room. “Keep them offline! Help is coming.”

Rose broke away from where she’d been helping the others holding the levers back, quickly overtaking Miss. Hartman but still hanging back slightly.

You weren’t tryin’ ta leave without me, were you?,  his wife asked, her mental landscape pulsing with agitation.

Wouldn’t dream of it, the Doctor assured her. After all, she had complete access to every single thought in his head now. He was fine to leave it entirely up to Rose, whether or not to follow him into near certain death. Not like he could stop her any other time.

“You two, you come with us,” Yvonne ordered a pair of soldiers walking past, not that it would do them any good.

They all slowed down, following his lead as they neared the source of the signal.

“What’s down here?” he asked as they reached a section of hall blocked off by plastic.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Yvonne admitted. “I think it’s building work. It’s just renovations.”

“You should go back,” the Doctor told her, taking his wife’s hand before carefully passing into the cordoned off area.

“Think again,” Miss. Hartman scoffed, once again ignoring his advice. It’s as if she truly didn’t understand that he was trying to help her.

We’ll figure this out, Rose assured him this time, despite knowing that he was completely aware of the terror and doubt pulsing through her headspace.

I love you, the Doctor told her, hoping that it wouldn’t be his last chance to say it.

I love you, too.

It wasn’t long before they reached the source … though he couldn’t see anything. At least, nothing obvious.

“What is it?” Yvonne asked. “What’s down here?”

“Ear pieces, ear pods,” he finally began to explain. “This world’s colliding with another, and I think I know which one.”

“We’ve met them before,” Rose continued, just as metal footsteps began clanging from every direction, shadows appearing to circle them behind the flimsy curtains.

“Fell through a crack on accident. Should have been impossible. Now we know why,” the Doctor elaborated, shifting so that his wife was directly behind him - connected lifespans or not, he was the one who could regenerate (hopefully).

“What are they?”

“They came through first. The advanced guard,” he told her, trying to keep the fear out of his voice and doing a rather poor job of it as the creatures surrounding them ripped through the plastic. “Cybermen.”

Rose and Yvonne both ducked as the soldiers began to open fire, and he grabbed both their hands in an attempt to get away that was thwarted before they’d even managed to move more than a few feet.

“We surrender!” the Doctor quickly announced, raising his hands above his head to show he was unarmed as the sounds of gunfire faded. He swallowed, blinking a few times and not allowing himself to turn around.

“Yeah, we surrender!” Rose quickly followed suit, gaze straight forward.

He turned to Yvonne, raising his eyebrows and giving her a slight wave.

“I surrender,” she - finally - agreed through gritted teeth, throwing up her hands.

They were quickly marched back to the Ghost Shift area, escorted into the room with guns to their backs.

“Get away from the machines,” the Doctor shouted. “Do what they say. Don’t fight them!”

Before the scientists at the levers had time to move, they were shot down.

“We are the Cyberman,” one of their captors announced - likely the Cyberleader. “The Ghost Shift will be increased to one hundred percent.”

The timelines around them had become utter chaos within the past fifteen minutes - the Doctor wasn’t sure how he would possibly be able to see straight, never mind think properly once the breach was fully opened. 

If it’s not helping, just let go, his wife insisted, tugging him back toward her mind. Despite the fight or flight responses bombarding her systems, it was still much simpler in there, cut off from the nauseating sensations of slowly crumbling dimensions.

Glad my primitive human brain can help, Rose’s (slightly sarcastic) mental voice echoed around him as the levers raised.

“Here come the ghosts,” he warned, bracing himself.

Even cut off from his time senses, the full activation was brutal. The Doctor could sense the barriers Rose had made earlier shatter, despite his primary consciousness being nowhere near them. He grimaced, doing his best to keep the pain of it from touching his wife’s mind. No wonder it was so easy for her to move him telepathically - he no longer had any defenses.

They shielded their eyes, watching as a growing number of spectral figures approached through the rift.

“What are we going to do?” Rose asked, clinging to his side as the strain of protecting them both inside her head began to wear on her.

His precious girl. So, so strong. The last thing he wanted to tell her was that he didn’t know, but the most he could do was not say the words. The last thing he wanted her to feel was his own fear, but all he could do was put on a brave face. Everything else was transparent, an open book.

“Achieving full transfer,” the Cyberleader declared.

The Doctor watched as the forms solidified. “They’re Cybermen. All of the ghosts are Cybermen. Millions of them, right across the world.”

“They’re invading the whole planet,” Yvonne stated, and he noticed the blinking light on her ear piece indicating that she was still in a call.

“It’s not an invasion,” he corrected. “It’s too late for that. It’s a victory.”

“You’re the ones who gave it to them,” Rose couldn’t help but point out.

Yvonne opened her mouth only to clamp it shut again as the nearest computer began to repeat ‘Sphere Activated’ on a loop, claiming each of their attentions as data flashed on the screen. The Doctor frowned, eyes widening as he tried to make sense of it all.

How did a Cyber Invasion lead to a Void ship?

How did a Void ship lead to a Cyber Invasion?

Calculation after calculation, and none of them added up. 

“But I don’t understand,” the Doctor stepped forward, commanding notice, needing to know. “The Cybermen don’t have the technology to build a void ship. That’s way beyond you. How did you create the sphere?”

“The sphere is not ours,” the nearest Cyberman replied.

“What?”

But … it was active.

It had activated precisely when the Cybermen fully manifested out of the void.

Sure, it didn’t make much sense for it to be theirs, but if not …

“The sphere broke down the barriers between worlds. We only followed. Its origin is unknown,” the Cyberman continued.

“Then what’s inside it?” the Doctor asked, despite knowing that the answer wasn’t coming.

Chapter Text

“What do you think it is?” Rose whispered, as they were led into Yvonne Hartman’s office. “There was a message, they said it was active.”

All but the Cyberleader took defensive positions, eerily still. The Doctor had effectively blocked off his time senses - a peek every so often was going to have to be good enough. Really, he was well aware that everything was falling apart, no need for a constant, unrelenting reminder.

Why are you whispering?, he asked his wife over their completely stealthy bond.

Aloud, he whispered back, “I don’t know. We’re sure to figure it out soon enough. Doubt it’s anything good.”

Because it’s too quiet, was her response.

Yvonne took a seat at her desk, looking only slightly strained as she kept perfect posture, her head held high. Blimey, she was British. Actually, he found himself feeling quite proud of her - she didn’t even flinch when the Cyberleader marched up to her.

“You will talk to your central world authority and order global surrender,” they demanded.

In a blink, Yvonne was once again the irritatingly confident woman who had ‘captured’ them.

“Oh, do some research. We haven’t got a central world authority.”

Honestly, it was impressive.

“You have now,” the Cyberleader declared. “I will speak on all global wavelengths. This broadcast is for human kind.”

Really is, Rose chimed in, unashamedly wrapping her arms around him.

Careful, or they might think you’re my wife, the Doctor joked, trying to make light of the situation even as most of his focus was now on the bluetooth headset that Yvonne had now concealed with her hair. The headset that was currently, supposedly, connected with the government, or some representative thereof.

He pulled out his 3D spectacles as the Cyberleader began his speech.

Don’t care. ’S not like it matters anymore, Rose replied, decidedly not cheered up.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and discretely modified Yvonne’s headset. It was now heavily encrypted, almost entirely untraceable, had universal roaming, and a copy of an entire series of cheesy audio dramas from Andromeda VII.

You really don’t know when to stop, do ya?

Oh, great. Now she laughs.

I’ll have you know that it’s quite impressive that I could make it fit into that primitive piece of Earth technology, he defended. You lot can barely store a single terabyte of information, and that show takes up eight! Eight, Rose Tyler. Longest airing show in the quadrant, and still going!

They began to hear explosions from outside before the Cyberleader had even finished his message.

Without speaking, they all slowly migrated to the window - even the Cyberleader. The chaos and destruction below was immense. The Doctor wished he could tell which side was winning, if their warning had helped - Torchwood obviously had access to more superior weaponry than the Cybermen would be expecting.

“I ordered surrender,” the Cyberleader stated, as close to shocked as an emotionless shell could likely be. And that was just it, really. The response doesn’t compute because emotion wasn’t part of the equation.

“They’re not taking instructions,” The Doctor seethed. “Don’t you understand? You’re on every street, you’re in their homes, you’ve got their children! Of course they’re going to fight.” He was near yelling by the end, the stress of their current helplessness weighing down on him.

Doctor!, Rose shouted in his head - their head? Blimey, this was going to get confusing. Panic and fear overtook his bondmate’s thoughts, hypothetical imaginings of him being deleted taking centre stage.

He took a slight step back and grabbed her hand, eyes staying locked on the Cyberleader.

And then another Cyberman walked into the room.

“Interior scans complete,” it announced. “Technology in building is 70.42% terrestrial, 28.57% extraterrestrial, and 1.01% unknown.”

Thirty percent? Really?

The Doctor was all but certain that whatever was in the Void Ship was alien, parallel or not.

“Assemble the Cybermen,” the Cyberleader ordered.

Rose tugged him backwards as their enemy’s attention turned elsewhere.

“What do we do?” Yvonne asked, eyes shifting toward the concealed ear piece.

“We - wait …” the Doctor whispered, mimicking her, eyes moving toward the Cyberleader mere feet away. “We ‘obey’. And we hope that others are faring better in the fight.”

That’s some uncrackable code you’ve got there.

Somehow Rose’s thoughts felt like an eyeroll. Her actual eyes were tracking the Cybermen approaching.

It only works if they’re not paying attention, he replied, turning to glare as they took formation.

“Scans detect unknown technology active within Sphere chamber,” the Cyberleader reiterated, receiving a chorus of, “Cybermen will investigate.”

The Doctor could tell when his wife’s focus left their captors, waves of negative emotions permeating their shared mental space as other Cybermen dragged away people just outside the room, off for ‘upgrading’.

“Units 10-6-5 and 10-6-6 will investigate Sphere chamber.”

Pity, fury. 

Anger, sadness.

“We obey.”

He felt the same way, but they needed to wait … for now.

Doctor?

His wife sounded oddly hesitant, enough to make him a little scared of whatever question was about to follow if Rose was already afraid of the answer.

What?, he responded anyway despite being 99.783% certain that she could pluck any thought she wanted out of his head right now if she felt like it.

You know a lot about aliens, she hedged.

The Doctor nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as he focused on other non-time senses, needing to be as aware of their environment as possible. Another breath. He also was becoming increasingly aware of the space he was occupying within Rose’s mind. Against all odds, it seemed to be actively expanding the longer they stayed like this - in order to fit him, it seemed. He wondered if she was even aware of this.

So, which ones do you think would be able to create a void ship?

There are definite cons to sharing a mind, one of them being that nice, little white lies were impossible. So all the Doctor was able to do was quickly barrage her with images and names of other options after his traitorous brain gave her the terrifying possibility he’d been fixated on.

Do you think-

He grabbed Rose’s hand, interrupting the thought as he followed the Cyberleader, wanting a view of whatever they were about to find in that chamber.

You need to understand that I hope I’m wrong, he explained. I’m not trying to hide real things from you, I’m trying to spare you from the doomsday ramblings of a madman.

Rose scoffed, and he didn’t have time to make her understand.

“Units open visual link,” the Cyberleader commanded.

Over 900 years, maybe - could be longer, definitely wasn’t less. All of the loved ones lost, all of his own deaths. The horrors of the universe he’d seen alongside it’s splendor. He’d been exiled by his people, he’d lead his people, and he’d been called to fight for them - before losing them all in the Time War. 

The laptop screen flickered on.

“Visual contact established.”

He didn’t have time to make her understand that in all of that time, the worst beings he had ever known, the ones who would always try to destroy everything, the ones that haunted his nightmares if he ever allowed himself to truly sleep-

A Dalek rolled onto the screen.

The Doctor stiffened. Blinked. Hoped he was just having a flashback, a waking nightmare.

“Oh my god,” his wife breathed, her hand tightening around him as he slowly slid to a better vantage point.

“IDENTIFY YOURSELVES.”

The words grated on his ears. His respiratory bypass engaged. Slowly, with great regret, he migrated back fully into his own mental space. 

“You will identify first,” the Cybermen countered.

“STATE YOUR IDENTITY,” screeched the Dalek in return.

A nightmare, yes, but also their reality - if reality would even hold up much longer; the Doctor’s time sense, once again unavoidable, nauseatingly reminded him that the multiverse was at stake.

“No. No, it can’t be. Every time. They always come back, always survive,” he whispered to himself, stunned.

“You will identify first.”

“IDENTIFY!”

The commands continued on.

Maybe they’ll be stuck like this.

Rose’s mental presence shocked him out of his brief stupor. While she quite obviously didn’t believe her own words, the fact that she made the joke anyway grounded him in a way that he wasn’t expecting.

One can only hope, he replied, before tuning back into the on-screen confrontation.

“-illogical. You will modify,” one of the Cyber units demanded.

Are you going to be okay?

The Doctor worried that his bondmate was beginning to feel the strain on his senses. That the longer this went on, the more it would bleed across their connection.

“DALEKS DO NOT TAKE ORDERS.”

He squeezed her hand.

It’s too dangerous for our minds to occupy the same physical location, was all he felt he could directly say. The only barriers he had left were the ones she had created for him, so the myriad of grim news was apparent. 

“You have identified as Daleks,” the Cyberman stated.

Rose bit her lip, and her presence in his mind dimmed.

The Doctor tried not to panic. He could really use a plan right about now, and the only one slowly coming to mind was absolutely less than ideal … and, of course, potentially deadly on several different levels.

“Oh my god,” Rose repeated, this time dropping his hand only to wrap her arms around him. “We’ll figure it out,” she assured him, words half-whispered into his ear as she buried her head into his shoulder. “We’ll stop them. We’ll- wait.” 

Rose lifted her head and the Doctor followed her gaze.

“What?” he asked, when the answer wasn’t forthcoming.

“I could have sworn I just saw Mickey,” she softly exclaimed.

“We followed in the wake of your sphere,” a Cyberman said as he glanced at the screen, brows furrowed. As if he didn’t have enough specific individuals to protect while also trying to save two universes. As if this wasn’t the real reason he had tried to avoid family at all costs.

“LONG RANGE SCANS CONFIRM THE PRESENCE OF CRUDE CYBERNETIC CONSTRUCTS ON WORLDWIDE SCALE,” a Dalek screeched back.

If it came down to it, if he had to choose, if it was between the universe - the multiverse - or the lives of a few beings (no matter how much they mattered to him) …

“I’m hoping for his sake that you’re wrong,” the Doctor replied aloud, trying to cut off his fatalistic train of thought.

His wife’s mental presence - able to surround his essence even outside of her own mental space - radiated warmth and understanding, despite the ever-present undercurrent of fear. 

“Yeah, yeah …” she breathed.

And in that moment, everything seemed to slow down as his own thoughts rushed at him.

He finally understood exactly why the Universe saw fit to join their minds together. 

And it wasn’t like he hadn’t already known this. Hadn’t already agonized over this from the moment they had begun traveling together. Hadn’t already been one of the many reasons he loved Rose Tyler. Hadn’t already been one of the many reasons he had wanted to leave her behind to live out the rest of her human life out of the constant danger of his existence.

Rose would make the same call.

Rose would save the universe. Multiverse.

And now their timelines were tied. Success, failure - didn’t matter. They would both either live to fight another day - because that’s what it always was, wasn’t it? The Time War would never be over - or die together as reality crumbles around them.

A wave of calm washed over him (however short-lived it may end up being). For once there was someone that he didn’t have to worry about choosing.

“WE MUST PROTECT THE GENESIS ARK.”

The Doctor tuned back into the video conference at the Dalek’s declaration.

“The Genesis Ark?” he couldn’t help but wonder aloud.

Hundreds of years fighting the Daleks and he’d never heard of a ‘Genesis Ark’.

Genesis. Genesis. Genesis.

The act of coming into being. Creation. Beginning. Origin. Birth. Source.

He needed to connect the dots. What was it? Names mean something, and Daleks were much too logical to choose a name that held no importance … though already it seemed much more vague than he was used to - for a Dalek, at least.

“Our species are similar, though your design is inelegant,” one of the Cybermen offered, and oh, that would be a big pile of bad. The last thing he needed was an alliance , though he doubted the Daleks would agree to one. One thing he definitely knew about the Daleks was that they viewed any being that wasn’t a Dalek as lesser, and would therefore destroy them.

Then again, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t form temporary alliances.

The only thing they should be doing together is losing, his bondmate huffed in his mind.

He slowly put on his 3D specs, an idea starting to form.

“DALEKS HAVE NO CONCEPT OF ELEGANCE,” came the response, every word grating.

He’d thought he’d killed them all.

He’d thought Rose killed them all.

Yet here they were, like cockroaches.

And what the bloody hell was a Genesis Ark?

On Earth, it’s also a story, his wife piped in. A book in the Bible about how God created the world, and a bunch of stuff that happened after.

Genesis Ark .

Earth Christian Mythology. A bloke named Noah saving every species on the planet from a great flood.

But why would Daleks choose that name? An obscure ancient Earth reference.

Is this ancient to you?!

The Doctor couldn’t be bothered to figure out how or why that could possibly have offended her human sensibilities (though he was sure that if they survived this he’d hear about it eventually).

Because if it really was a version of Noah’s Ark …

“This is obvious. But consider, our technologies are compatible. Cybermen plus Daleks. Together, we could upgrade the Universe.”

You think there’s more Daleks in there?  

His bondmate voiced what he couldn’t bring himself to even privately acknowledge.

It still doesn’t make sense, he floundered. If they had superior numbers, they wouldn’t wait to prove it. We’d be in the middle of an all out war, not teetering on the precipice of one.

Stress and fear blanketed their connection, and the Doctor felt horrible for all of the pain he couldn’t prevent … but his wife’s conviction never wavered.

He wanted to protect her. He’d always want to protect her.

It was, however, nice to know that he didn’t necessarily have to. At least not from himself … maybe.

“YOU PROPOSE AN ALLIANCE?”

Several timelines around them pulled taught. He dug his nails into the palm of his free hand.

“This is correct,” the Cyberman replied.

“REQUEST DENIED.”

Some of the timelines loosened, while others snapped apart entirely. 

“Hostile elements will be deleted,” the Cyberman declared, and the Doctor already knew it was futile.

Cybermen weren’t advanced enough to have a chance against a Dalek’s polycarbide shell.

Timelines began and ended and pulsed and knotted, reality bleeding and breaking by the second.

“EXTERMINATE!”

The video feed cut away.

Can’t you just come back? Rose’s mental voice was strained.

I could lose control, the Doctor finally admitted. I could lose control and hurt you. I don’t want to risk it.

“Open visual link,” the Cyberleader commanded. “Daleks, be warned. You have declared war upon the Cybermen.”

I don’t think you can, his bondmate replied.

The thought was laughable, in the most morbid of ways, because of course he could. His mind wasn’t even a safe place for himself, let alone the woman he loved, whose (overall) all-too-human life experiences couldn’t begin to comprehend the mental trauma centuries of war and pain could leave on a psyche. 

“THIS IS NOT WAR. THIS IS PEST CONTROL,” responded what must be the Dalek’s designated leader, with it’s black Dalekanium - so strange.

I don’t mean that, she replied, despite the fact that he hadn’t intentionally communicated anything.

Icy fear dripped down the Doctor’s spine as he realized exactly how vulnerable he had become.

“We have five million Cybermen. How many are you?”

The void wasn’t active. He knew the void wasn’t active. But yet he could feel the tear in reality growing all the same.

All of his instincts were SCREAMING at him to run, run, RUN.

“FOUR,” the Dalek replied.

You know what you were saying earlier? Rose’s mental voice was almost a whisper, uncertain. About my brain? How it’s got more space and can handle a lot more, er, telepathy stuff than what we usually do?

Barely able to think straight, the Doctor gritted his teeth and nodded.

“You would destroy the Cybermen with four Daleks?” the Cyberleader asked, with as much disbelief as they were capable of expressing.

Well, I think that you might just … fit in without having to worry so much. Block away whatever needs to be blocked away once you’re in here. It’s kind of like …

An image of the TARDIS flashed across their connection.

“WE WOULD DESTROY THE CYBERMEN WITH ONE DALEK,” their leader assured them, and the Doctor didn’t doubt it. “YOU ARE SUPERIOR IN ONLY ONE RESPECT.”

He didn’t doubt Rose either. He had felt it, after all.

“What is that?”

“YOU ARE BETTER AT DYING. RAISE COMMUNICATIONS BARRIER!”

The screen went blank, and the Doctor winced as swaths of timelines blinked out of existence and others wrapped around each other in an unsustainable chokehold.

He couldn’t think straight.

He needed to protect Rose.

He needed to save the entire multiverse.

He needed to THINK.

He couldn’t-

“Quarantine the Sphere chamber,” the Cyberleader commanded, snapping him out of the spiral his mind had fallen down. “Start emergency upgrading. Begin with non-essential personnel.”

The Doctor gave up trying to strategize as a marching Cyberman grabbed Yvonne Hartman - their primary contact with the outside world.

“No, you can’t do this!” she screamed, “I surrendered! I surrendered!”

“These two. Their increased adrenaline suggests they have vital Dalek information,” one of the Cybermen declared.

“And she has information, too!” Rose cried, rushing after Hartman without looking back.

Panic clawed at his insides. It physically hurt, but instead of following her he strode right up to the Cyberleader themself.

“I demand you leave that woman alone!” he shouted over the din of screams and stomping metal feet. “We won’t help you if you hurt her.”

It was a bluff, a poorly thought out bargain, but oh how he hoped it would work.

Ultraviolet darkness was starting to creep into the corners of his visual field, decisions he was unaware of effecting the stability of the causal nexus of the entire multiverse.

“We don’t have a leader of the whole planet, but she can contact the country’s government!” Rose went on as she tried futilely to pry Yvonne out of their grip. “You need her, she’s essential!”

“Yes, yes, and Britain can speak to other leaders,” Miss Hartman agreed, breathless.

“The entities in this room are useful. Upgrade all others,” the Cyberleader conceded.

Fast as he could, the Doctor rejoined Rose as Yvonne was released. His breathing was heavy as he took her hand and they both watched through the glass walls as other innocents were taken away to be upgraded. There was nothing he could do to save them. They’d risked enough as it was. 

Are you ready, then? His bondmate asked, and he didn’t know what she meant.

Yvonne regained her composure, head high and posture perfect as she returned to her desk, making a show of contacting the government despite the fact that she’d been in contact with them the whole time. Video screens popped up on her computer screen, world leaders talking over each other.

They needed a way out, to get somewhere else where enemies weren’t breathing down their necks. 

The timelines strobed and made impossible shapes, ended only to reappear moments later bisecting another. The whole system was teetering towards collapse.

This is ridiculous. 

The Doctor barely blinked and then the infra-turquoise-tinged horror that had been seeping into the ultraviolet at the edge of his vision was gone. His time senses were gone, along with a handful of others. Once again he was back in Rose’s mind.

We can’t do this, he insisted as she led him over to a window, his body’s movements ever so slightly delayed by the more distant connection. It makes us vulnerable. On certain scans we’ll be identified as only one entity.

Too bad, his wife replied, waving off his concern like it was nothing. You’re a mess right now. 

She wasn’t wrong.

Some warning would’ve been nice, he said instead, pouting as he gazed out the window at the ongoing destruction.

Strings of thoughts replayed in front of him - Rose’s internal memories - of his bondmate giving him plenty of warning that he wasn’t aware of at the time. 

The Doctor’s brow furrowed. His senses had been more overwhelmed than he had realized.

She rubbed his arm soothingly.

Think I’ll take the risks. All or nothing either way, right?

“You are proof.”

He looked up as the Cyberleader approached them.

“Of what?”

“That emotions destroy you.”

All or nothing.

Forever, however long that ended up being.

Together no matter what.

“Yeah, I am,” he admitted easily, because oh how true it was. All of the lives he couldn’t save, all of the consequences of caring. Of knowing that he couldn’t protect Rose anymore if he couldn’t protect himself, and knowing that he’d never choose to protect himself if other lives were on the line.

He was the Doctor, after all. And that’s what that meant.

The air began to sizzle, and even without being completely immersed in all of his senses, Rose had left him with enough residual awareness to pick up on them in a peripheral sense.

The multiverse was fracturing.

Something else was coming through.

But the Cyberleader didn’t seem to be aware of it.

“Mind you, I quite like hope,” he added, nudging Rose to look as well. “Hope’s a good emotion. And here it comes.”

Synchronized flashes of light cut through the fabric of reality, and then six figures appeared who were most certainly not Cybermen.

The Doctor was glad and horrified at the same time. Safe in his wife’s head, he could only imagine what state the multiverse was in now , but they weren’t all dead so that was something. The new arrivals quickly destroyed all of the nearby Cybermen, including the Cyberleader as he walked toward them. A new Cyberleader would be activated immediately, but the important thing was that they weren’t here now.

He and Rose walked slowly out of the office, Yvonne following in their wake, ignoring the confused questions of various government employees still connected on her computer.

One of the dimension-traveling soldier-types turned toward them.

“Doctor? Rose? Good to see you again,” he said, before removing his respirator.

“Jake?”

It was one thing to assume which universe they’d popped out of, but to have direct proof in the form of someone they’d met was still somehow a surprise. Mainly because it shouldn’t be possible.

Humans traveling the multiverse willy-nilly? 

Not. Good.

He gently dipped back into his senses, just to peek, but immediately had to return fully into Rose’s mind. It was utter chaos. The Doctor began carefully rebuilding mental walls. He was going to need them - he hadn’t lied when he’d told Rose this was unsustainable, that he needed all of his senses.

He could, however, now think clearly enough to plan. What he needed to do was view his time senses the way lesser species viewed a solar eclipse - through an adequate barrier. Rose was giving him the proper headspace to do this, so he needed to get started.

“The Cybermen came through from one world to another, and so did we,” Jake explained, proudly walking toward them even as the Doctor was sure that his horror was being broadcast externally as well as internally.

“Then I did see Mickey earlier!” Rose gasped, seemingly paying him no mind. “Oh my god! He’s trapped with the Daleks! He might be-”

Her terror and anguish hit him like a tidal wave, yet the integrity of his partially constructed mental walls remained in tact. Really, they needed to make it through this if only to give him the opportunity to research exactly what kind of telepathic abilities were being used.

Either way, his priorities shifted as he turned to his wife and wrapped his arms around her. Despite the fact that they were mentally as close as two individual beings could possibly be, the physical connection still had a way of grounding him in the present. He hadn’t realized how fast his hearts were racing until they finally began to slow.

“We’ll help him,” he promised her as she grabbed fistfuls of his suit jacket. “If they haven’t exterminated him, we’ll help him. And there’s a good chance they’ve kept him alive. Mickey’s travelled in the TARDIS. The Daleks will have sensed the background artron radiation. Hopefully we can get to him in time.”

Rose nodded, biting her lip. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and the Doctor hoped she knew how amazing and strong she was. Hoped that there was no way, especially now, that she could ever doubt her own worth.

“Defend this room,” Jake ordered, and the Doctor refocused on the others. “Chrissie, monitor communications.”

He let go of his bondmate in order to slip on his 3D specs, just for confirmation.

Such a scientist, Rose commented, obviously trying to distract herself from her own dread. Everyone from the parallel universe had void particles. They weren’t drenched in the stuff like the Cybermen or the Daleks, but still. Even a little bit would make things more complicated, more dangerous.

“Kill one Cyberleader and they just download into another. Move!” Jake finished.

The Doctor rubbed his chin, wishing that they didn’t need Jake and his team’s help as much as they did. He kept doing the maths, and the fact that they even managed it was all kinds of bad, bad, bad.

“Speaking of communications,” Yvonne piped up, “Doctor, they-“

“You can’t just, just, just hop from one world to another. You can’t,” he interrupted, finally unable to contain himself. 

Rude, Rose chimed in.

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

You talk to her, then.

“We just did,” Jake replied, unhelpfully stating the obvious. “With these.”

Without a care, the other man tossed what really just looked like a large yellow button on a chain at him, same as what everyone who’d arrived from the parallel universe was wearing. Honestly, what if it had gone off when he caught it?

“But that’s impossible. You can’t have this sort of technology.” 

Two can play at stating the obvious. Rose plucked the medallion out of his hands, inspecting it.

“Doctor, you’re needed on a line,” Yvonne spoke up again. “The head of Torchwood Three requires-”

He spun on his heel, wondering why it could never be just one thing at a time.

“Torchwood can wait, ta.”

“Actually, we have our own version of Torchwood,” Jake informed them. “They developed it. Do you want to come and see?”

Before he had a chance to respond, Jake pressed his button.

“No!” the Doctor shouted, but it was too late.

Everything swirled and shifted, dulled and sharpened, expanded and collapsed, and then went black.