Archive of Our Own

The day after the Doctor broke her heart, Rose decided to break both of his in return. It wasn’t vengeful--mostly it was just tactical for her own emotional well-being, though she could concede that there was something nice about the fact that leaving served to accomplish both. 

She was perfectly happy to admit that there was a seething, vindictive part of her that was rather satisfied to see the stricken expression on the Doctor’s face when she asked to be taken home. There was also a part of her that felt awful for taking pleasure in hurting her best friend in the universe, the most important man she’d ever known, the man she… but the thing was, he’d hurt her first.

And she knew exactly how petty that sounded, but she’d been awake all night thinking and she knew her anger was justified. It wasn’t just the jealousy, although there was certainly a healthy dose of that swirled in. It was the complete and utter betrayal, the shattering of the trust that they’d spent a year and two of his lives cultivating together. The fact that this Doctor’s actions were tainting the faith and love she’d had for his last self only served to make her that much more bitter. 

It hurt that the Doctor had fallen in love with Reinette, the famous and practically chillingly beautiful Madame de Pompadour. There was no point in denying it; only a couple days ago she’d been rather brutally forced to own up to her burgeoning affection for and subsequent possessiveness over the Doctor when she’d met Sarah Jane. Mickey had seen right through her--of course he had, he’d known her all her life--and so had Sarah Jane. But they’d worked it out in the end, and Rose would never forget Sarah Jane's parting words. 

Some things are worth getting your heart broken for.

Rose had thought Sarah Jane was right. She hadn’t thought her heart would be broken quite so soon.

And the heartbreak was only the beginning of her problems (or was it all just one, massive Doctor-shaped problem?) with what happened on that adventure. No, the worst part, the part that she thought might actually be unforgivable, was the way that the Doctor had left her behind. Not just once but continuously, over and over again, without even a second thought to what kind of danger he was leaving her in--let alone what kind of damage he was doing to her heart. 

He'd left her the very first time he went through the fireplace. And he’d left her alone on that spaceship for her and Mickey (Mickey, who had been on his first trip out and deserved better even if she hadn’t wanted him there in the first place) to nearly be chopped up and used for spare parts. And then he’d left them both stranded alone, unsure if they’d ever make it off of the ship or out of the 51st Century or if they’d be doomed to die there, all alone. 

Falling in love with an uncrowned queen? That hurt, but she could’ve gotten past that, could've lived with her broken heart. No one can help who they fall in love with (or, god help her, she wouldn’t be in nearly the predicament she was in now). But leaving her behind? That was a choice, that was his choice. And he made that choice over and over again, as if he was trying to send her a message.

Well, message received. 

She’d spent hours thinking about it, and she knew she couldn’t stay. She could hold the hand of the man she’d given her heart to and run with him for eternity, even if he never gave her his own hearts in return. But she couldn’t hold the hand of the man who’d broken her heart and her trust so callously and not even apologized for it. 

A potential relationship, a crush, that was one thing. Their friendship, which she’d valued above all else from the moment he’d first taken her hand and told her to run, was an entirely different matter, and she wasn’t sure she could ever forgive him for breaking it. And the moment she realized that with absolute clarity, she packed a bag and told him to take her home.

“You--you can’t mean that,” the Doctor managed after staring at her in shock and pain for a few seconds that really felt more like an eternity. 

“I do,” Rose said stiffly, dumping her large duffel bag at her feet to underscore her point. “Take me home.”

“Rose,” he said in a strangled voice. His fists clenched and unclenched at his side, like he wanted to reach out and touch her, and she swiftly crossed her arms across her chest before he could get any stupid ideas. “Please, I… why--”

“You know perfectly well why,” she said coolly. “And if you don’t, that might actually be worse,” she continued, cutting him off when he opened his mouth to argue. “You said you’d always bring me back, so do it. Or was that a lie, too?”

“Rose, I never--”

“It doesn’t matter if you said it in as many words,” she snapped. “I trusted you. And now I don’t. Take. Me. Home.”

The Doctor swallowed hard, jaw clenched, and set the coordinates.

The lurching motion of the materialization sequence drew Mickey into the console room. Her oldest friend took one look at the expression on Rose’s face and immediately his face fell.

“Rose…”

“I’m going home, Micks,” she said, cursing herself when her voice wavered slightly. “Take care of him, yeah?” she said and attempted a smile that came out more like a grimace. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll just come back with ya’,” Mickey protested, but she shook her head. 

“No, stay,” she insisted, swiping at the moisture building up in her eyes as she drew her friend in for a hug. “It’s amazin’ out there, and just because I’m not here doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see it. And besides, he needs someone,” she added quietly, hating that she still wanted him to be okay even when she was most definitely not.

“I don’t need someone, Rose, I need you,” the Doctor cut in sharply. Rose glanced over at him; now he was the one standing with his arms folded over his chest and his head tilted back, looking down at her just slightly, but she could still see the tight line of his jaw, the slightest trace of tears building at the corners of his eyes. 

“You’ve made it rather clear that you don’t,” she said, heaving her bag up from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder. “Bye, Doctor,” she practically whispered, trying not to choke on the words. “Thanks for everything.”

“Rose, please,” he begged, suddenly leaping into motion and blocking her path towards the door. “I--I’m sorry, just don’t leave. Let me--let me--”

“No, you let me,” Rose corrected, and fought tooth and nail to bolster her resolve when the Doctor’s face crumpled into one of the most vulnerable expressions she’d ever seen him wear. 

“I can’t--I can’t. Not without you,” he tried again, and that did it.

“You did a perfectly fine job of it yesterday. I’m sure you’ll manage,” she said, and pushed past him towards the door. 

“So that’s it?” he asked her retreating back, sounding nearly angry for a split second, and she froze where she stood. “You and I. Done. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, from a shop basement to the end of the world and everywhere and everywhen in between, and now… now it’s just. And I’m just supposed to… supposed to…”

Here he was, this one man who seemed to have all the words in the universe. She doubted he’d ever know how much it hurt to watch him struggle to string them together as everything around them, everything about them, fell apart.

“I know you don’t get this right now,” she said thickly, running her tongue along her teeth as the tears began to fall. “But you made this choice just as much as I did.” 

“I’d never make this choice,” he said vehemently, and she scoffed. 

“You already did.”

“Rose, can’t we talk about this?” he pleaded desperately. “Just--just let us try, for Rassilon’s sake, give us a chance to fix this. No--give me a chance to fix this.”

She swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut tightly and trying to block out the sweet memories that were racing through her brain and making her want to stay. The very best year of her life, the very best man she’d ever known, and here she was about to turn her back on it all. 

But no. He’d hurt her, and she’d sworn at sixteen to never again let a man get away with treating her with any less respect than she was worth. 

She was worth more than being left behind to die, damn it.

“No,” she said shortly, and then sighed, drowning in guilt and pain and an overwhelming desire to just go back to the way things had been a few days ago, to forget all of the torture of the last two adventures. To go back to just being Rose Tyler, a girl on an adventure, a girl in love with her best friend, a girl living the life she'd never dared to dream of. 

“You’ll see me again when you bring Mickey ‘round, anyway,” she added, unable to prevent herself from tossing him a bone and trying not to sniffle too loudly as her tears continued to fall. 

She hated that part of her that was still screaming for him to fix it even if she wasn’t letting him, that part of her was still yearning to forgive him, and she knew she had to leave before she could make any more concessions. 

Rose Tyler stepped out of the TARDIS and walked out to the Powell Estate with a heavy heart and damp cheeks, but she was proud of herself for never once looking back.

“Well, aren’t you gonna go after her?” Mickey asked hesitantly, and the Doctor closed his eyes for a long moment and fought to get his stupid, useless, superior biology under control. 

“I highly doubt that will go well,” the Doctor said tightly, trying not to snap, mostly because he didn’t think he could bear further confrontation from bloody Mickey Smith. He couldn’t even fathom how incredibly wrong everything had gone. The last two days had been awful; it had been nice to see Sarah Jane Smith, but the revelation that he’d abandoned her in the wrong place and left her waiting for his return had been a knife to one of his hearts. The sight of the age lines and grey hairs that framed her still-beautiful face had been a knife to the other.

And then Reinette--he’d done the exact same thing that he was still berating himself for doing to his friend, only this time it was worse. He’d actually told Reinette that he intended to return, and she’d died waiting for him to keep that promise. 

Rose and Mickey had gone to sleep almost immediately after he’d returned to them, and he’d let them. He knew it had been a tough adventure and he knew, with a stabbing pain in his soul, that he’d hurt Rose when he had broken the mirror. The last few adventures had left him wrong-footed, and it was so hard to look at her without worrying that she was about to be the next life he destroyed without even trying to. He’d avoided her after Sarah Jane, unable to face looking at Rose and seeing the potential for his own mistakes or, worse, her forgiveness. It was so much easier to run, to hide, to just pretend for a little while that his lovely, jeopardy-friendly blonde wouldn’t one day be his hardest loss yet.

But he couldn’t run forever, not from Rose. He missed her so much it ached, and watching her avoid him felt a little like putting his hearts into a human garbage compactor. 

So he’d been desperately looking forward to healing the rift between them and holding her for, preferably, a very long time after all of the running culminated in him stranded alone, staring up at the stars and thinking that he’d never get back to her. 

But instead, the absolutely unimaginable had happened: Rose had left him. 

He’d told her just a couple days ago that she could spend the rest of her life with him, and it had killed him to do so knowing that “the rest of her life” was not nearly long enough, that the brevity of that period was already breaking his hearts. Little had he known that “the rest of her life” would’ve been a blessing, a gift, the best thing he could’ve asked for and something he should’ve appreciated and cherished--because two days hurt so much worse. 

“I know it won’t go well, but I suppose I expected you to do it anyway,” Mickey muttered, and the Doctor scowled at him. 

“Why don’t you just go too, then?” he snapped, no longer caring about what Rose’s stupid boyfriend or ex-boyfriend or whatever-he-was thought of him.

“Because Rose asked me to stay,” he said sharply, folding his arms firmly over his chest. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m right pissed at you for yesterday too. But she was right. I came because I wanted to see what’s out there, and you’re the only one that can give that to me.”

Mickey blessedly didn’t mention the loneliness factor, which more than likely saved him from suffering a solid punch to the nose.

“Fine,” the Doctor gritted out. “Except Rose will be coming with us.”

“How do ya’ plan on managing that, then?” Mickey asked, unimpressed. 

“Giving her time,” the Doctor said, flipping some switches on the console and setting some new coordinates, throwing them into the vortex and selecting a date only a few days later. “Not too much, reckon just a couple of days should do it, and I’ll ask to talk to her again. No point in us waiting it out when we can just skip ahead--”

The Doctor yelped as the TARDIS sparked and shot out some smoke from the control panel. Just when he thought that the Old Girl would stabilize and land, the glass of one of the central rotors cracked loudly and he could’ve sworn he felt the vortex disappear from around them.

“Hang on to something!” he just barely managed to shout, and heard Mickey grunt in acknowledgement as they both fought to stand their ground against the harsh jostling of the timeship. 

“Bloody hell, what was that?” Mickey groaned when they finally jolted to a rather harsh stop. “You really are a terrible driver. No wonder you missed by an entire year the first time.”

“Hush,” the Doctor scolded, though his hearts dropped like stones at Mickey’s words. “Actually, hang on, that was important. We need to make sure we didn’t miss the landing, but…” he trailed off, looking sorrowfully at the extinguished light of the central console. “I’m not sure if it matters much, anymore,” he finished quietly.

“What do you mean ‘it doesn’t matter’?” Mickey asked in confusion. “Of course it matters, unless you want to miss a whole year of Rose’s life. Or more.”

Rassilon, was he really so transparent in his fear that even Mickey the Idiot could see it?

“I mean the TARDIS is dead,” the Doctor answered flatly, forcing down the panic that Mickey’s words were drawing out. If he were lucky, he’d only miss a year. If he had landed wrong, the chances of him missing more, missing everything, were….  “Even if… even if we landed wrong, I’m not sure I can do anything about it.”

“So we’re stuck, then?” Mickey asked incredulously, fear spiking in his voice. “You got us stuck somewhere and you don’t even know where?”

“Or when,” the Doctor added unhelpfully, gently stroking the control panel and swallowing down the distress of not being able to feel the ship in his head. Although, come to think of it, he should’ve felt the pain of a broken bond if the TARDIS were truly dead. But instead, he felt silence, almost as though…

“Hang on a mo’,” the Doctor whispered hopefully, pulling up a few of the floor panels and rooting around inside before triumphantly pulling out a single lit cell. “Aha! Not dead!” he exclaimed joyously. After examining the glowing green light for a moment, he breathed out some of his regeneration energy, letting it coat the cell. “There, just gave away about ten years of my life. Worth it.”

“So we can go home?” Mickey asked in relief.

“Not quite yet,” the Doctor admitted. “Only one cell is alive. It’s enough to start generating power for the whole ship, but we’ll need to give it… oh, I’d say about 24 hours.”

“Well, suppose it could be worse,” Mickey sighed. “Though I don’t fancy stayin’ inside the dead ship, no offense.”

The Doctor sighed sadly, stroking the console again and apologizing telepathically. He wasn’t even sure if the Old Girl was strong enough to sense him, which broke his hearts, but he knew Mickey was right. The ship wasn’t a good place to stay at the moment; she needed her time and space to recover.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea. At best, we missed the landing and crashed horribly in the wrong time. Most likely... we fell out of the void. There’s nothing, there’s no way--well, I suppose we could go see what’s out there,” he conceded, pulling himself upright and leading the way. “But really. We fell out of the vortex, through the void, into nothingness. We're in some sort of no place. The silent realm. The lost dimension.”

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight that greeted them. 

Zeppelins filled the sky and the Doctor’s jaw dropped. That narrowed down his list of possibilities quite considerably, and when he looked down…

“Otherwise known as London,” Mickey said in amused relief. “Our London. London, England, Earth. Hang on,” he added, grabbing a newspaper. “First of February this year--not exactly far flung, is it?”

The Doctor fought the urge to comment on the “our,” but truthfully didn’t even know where to begin. London was Rose’s, and by extension….

“So this is London?” the Doctor asked.

“Yep.”

“Your city?” he continued, hearts clenching as his treacherous ears still heard our. 

“That’s the one.”

“Just as we left it?”

“Bang on.”

“And that includes the Zeppelins?” he asked pointedly, looking up once more, and Mickey followed his gaze.

“What the hell?” he muttered. “Okay, so it’s London with a big, international Zeppelin festival.”

The Doctor shook his head, apology beginning to crease the lines of his face. “This is not your world.”

“But if the date’s the same, it’s parallel, right?” Mickey asked excitedly, and the Doctor’s eyebrows rose, begrudgingly impressed. “Am I right? Like a parallel Earth where they’ve got Zeppelins. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You must be,” the Doctor acknowledged, the barest hint of pride creeping into his tone even through his despair. 

“Oh, but it’s just like the films,” Mickey continued on eagerly. “Like an alternative to our world where everything’s the same but a little different. Like, I don’t know, traffic lights are blue, Tony Blair never got elected--”

“Pete Tyler’s still alive,” the Doctor said, eyes wide and dark as he stared at the advert that neither of them had noticed.

A picture of Rose’s dad--or his parallel counterpart, at least--stared back at them as his image promoted something called “Vitex Lite, cherry flavour.” Hesitantly, the Doctor reached out and touched the image, and he and Mickey both jumped a bit as the image of Pete spoke and said “Trust me on this.”

“Blimey, that’s eerie,” Mickey breathed out. “I don't remember him much, but... he looks just like the pictures I’ve seen.” He swallowed hard, suddenly wondering how Rose would’ve felt if she were here, what it would’ve been like to see some parallel version of her dead dad. “Jackie used to tell Rose that her dad was always tryin’ out some crazy marketing schemes. Looks like he succeeded in this world,” he commented. 

“He’s not her Pete,” the Doctor said, throat tight. “That Pete… Rose’s dad died when she was six months old. This isn’t her Pete, it’s a Pete. For all we know, he’s got his own Jackie, and… and his own Rose,” the Doctor finished, and something about the desperate tone of his voice worried Mickey.

“But like you said,” Mickey began carefully. “If there’s a Rose in this world, she wouldn’t be her.” 

“No, a parallel version,” the Doctor acknowledged, though his eyes were still slightly glazed over. “One that doesn’t hate me,” he whispered, and Mickey did not like where this was going.

“Oi, you can’t just replace Rose,” Mickey began angrily, but the Doctor barely heard him.

“I just want to see her,” he said decisively, unflinching under Mickey’s glare. “She’s not replacing Rose. No one could ever replace Rose.”

“Not even herself?” Mickey challenged. “How can you know that? You’ve never even met this world’s Rose. How can you know that you won’t be… tempted?”

“Oh, of course I’ll be tempted,” scoffed the Doctor. “Parallel world, it’s like a gingerbread house. All those temptations calling out. And you know what? You’re probably right,” the Doctor admitted. “That I could… that there’s likely not a single Rose out there that I wouldn’t… but whoever she is, however brilliant she is, she’s not my Rose,” the Doctor managed at last, looking at Mickey seriously. “She won’t be the girl who I met in that basement, she won’t be the girl that tore open my ship to save me. I know that. I do.”

“So let me get this straight,” Mickey sighed. “You know it’s a dangerous temptation, and you’re going to go on anyways?”

“‘Course,” the Doctor said easily. “Haven’t you heard of old Siren legends? Of Odysseus having his crew tie him to a mast above deck because he was so desperately curious to hear the Sirens’ song?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see you tied to a bloody mast,” Mickey muttered.

“Don’t be stupid, Mickey the Idiot,” the Doctor quipped as he set off to hail a cab. “Who needs a mast? I’ve got my Rose.”

It bloody figured that it would go like this. 

Of course this world’s Pete Tyler was a billionaire and his corresponding Jackie Tyler was a wealthy, elitist socialite. Of course they hadn’t had a child in this world; of course there was no beautiful Rose Tyler in this world to act as a balm on his soul and brush away some of the pain that had been gnawing at him ever since he’d fought with his Rose. Well, there was a dog, but it was most certainly not funny, even if Mickey had laughed. 

The moment the Doctor realized there was no Rose Tyler in this universe, he had instantly wanted to leave the entire place behind, and was startled to find that it wasn’t so much like discovering what he was feeling, but more like finally being able to articulate it for the first time. He wanted to go home. 

Home to his London--bloody hell, Mickey was right again today, and the Doctor could barely stand it--and to his Rose, who he was itching to sweep into a bone-crunching hug as soon as possible. Or to maybe just hold her hand, if that was too much for her. Or to see her face. Hear her voice. To just know she existed, that she was out there, that she was alive. Rassilon, he would take anything.

Because of course Pete Tyler would be the head of some organization trying to defeat this universe’s creator of Cybermen. 

Yeah, the Doctor really, really just wanted to go home.

He hadn’t thought it was possible, but the moment he found out that parallel Jackie had died, he was glad Rose was at home with her mum. He couldn’t imagine it, bringing her here while she was still hurting only to make her watch a parallel version of Jackie die. Rose would’ve been devastated, and it would’ve broken his hearts nearly as much as she’d broken them by leaving. 

At least this way, one of them was healing. Rassilon, he hoped she was healing, because from his perspective everything still bloody hurt. 

Together, he, Mickey, Pete Tyler and a few of Pete’s allies (unlikely as they had seemed) were able to take down Lumic and his main factory. Mickey had, admittedly, been a huge asset. His skill with computers had gotten him and Jake access to the zeppelin that had eventually saved their lives, and he’d gotten the control panel down, and he’d managed to remotely program the universally compatible technology to give all of the Cybermen back their emotions. The Doctor had, admittedly, been worried; had Rose been with them, all Mickey would’ve needed to do was text her to get the code to the Doctor, assuming they’d have stuck together. But instead, he’d had to override the system himself, and the Doctor could concede that he was impressed with the man’s success. 

Perhaps not too much of an idiot after all. 

There were still, unfortunately, factories scattered everywhere, but the TARDIS power cell was running low, and he had no choice but to call it quits.

“Mickey, we’ve only got about five minutes left of power,” the Doctor said apologetically, looking between Mickey, Pete, Jake, and the folded up pinstriped suit in his hands, anxious to leave. “We’ve gotta go.”

“So what happens inside that thing, then?” Pete Tyler asked curiously.

“Do… do you want to see?” Mickey asked hesitantly, glancing at the Doctor for confirmation that his offer was okay. The Doctor barely reacted at all--he didn’t say a word or give anything away in his expression, but his shoulders tensed immediately and a thousand scenarios raced through his mind.

Pete, travelling with them to the original universe, Rose and Jackie getting to meet him, Rose having the family she’s always deserved…

Rose staying on Earth to spend time with her parallel father…

“No, I don’t think so,” Pete said after a long moment, and the Doctor barely withheld his sigh of breathless relief, all of his unrestrained fear draining out of him in an instant. “But you two, you know, all that stuff you said about different worlds. Who are you?”

“It’s like you say,” Mickey answered. “Imagine there are different worlds, parallel worlds. There was another me here. There are other Pete Tylers, other Jackie Tylers, and…”

“Mickey,” the Doctor warned subtly, but the damage was done.

“And?” Pete asked curiously as Mickey hesitated.  

“And their daughter,” he said softly, and Pete’s eyes widened. “She travels with the Doctor, usually. I’m just subbin’ in.”

“I’ve gotta go,” Pete choked out, and the Doctor nodded understandingly. He knew just what it was like to panic and instantly turn to running, and as much as he was glad Pete was staying behind, some part of him wanted to tell him what a mistake he was making. What a mistake it was to run from Rose, who would undoubtedly be the best person he had ever known. What a mistake it was to waste any time running away from her instead of toward or with. What a mistake it was to let his fear rule him so....

Oh.

Oh, Rassilon, he was so STUPID.

“There’s all those Lumic factories still out there,” Pete was saying when the Doctor snapped back into reality. “All those Cybermen still in storage. Someone’s got to tell the authorities what happened, carry on the fight… but really, thank you both. For everything.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor said, and Pete furrowed his brow. 

“I didn’t--”

“You did,” the Doctor said with a wan smile. “You just don’t know it. Well, off we go, then,” he added to Mickey, who nodded in acknowledgement. “Oh! Hang on, one more thing. Mrs. Moore,” the Doctor added, looking at Pete and Jake. “Her real name was Angela Price. She’s got a husband out there, and children. Find them. Tell them how she died saving the world.”

“Yeah, of course I will,” Jake said, and Pete nodded in agreement. 

“Good,” the Doctor said curtly, offering them one last tired nod before sweeping back into the TARDIS. 

By the time Mickey had finished with his own farewells, the Doctor was leaning against the console, coordinates already set. He pulled the dematerialization lever the moment the doors closed, startling Mickey slightly. 

“Where to, boss?” Mickey asked, and was shocked to see the Doctor’s tense expression relax more than it had all day. 

“Back to the Powell Estate, of course, day after we left,” the Doctor said and Mickey winced.

“You really sure that’s the best--”

“I was an idiot,” he interrupted, refusing to meet Mickey’s eyes as the ship finished landing and shuddered to a stop. “I didn’t--I wasn’t--” he broke off, frustrated. Mickey was not the person he wanted to be having this conversation with, even if he had been rather helpful on that last trip. 

“That place we just left,” he began carefully, taking a deep breath. “That was a universe without Rose. I don’t ever want to be in one of those again,” he said, jaw tight, and Mickey’s eyebrows raised at the uncharacteristic bluntness. “Even if there had been a Rose… I thought while we were there that I wanted to explore, that I just wanted to see a version of her that wasn’t mad at me. That I was letting myself above deck so that I could listen to the siren song, just this once, while I was upset and lonely. And the only call I heard came from right here, this universe, and it was irresistible. I don’t want another Rose that’s not mad at me. I want this one, angry or not. I won’t miss any more time with her. I won’t waste any more time with her.”

“Right,” said Mickey, looking simultaneously amused and uncomfortable. “I’ll leave you both to it.” 

The Doctor’s hearts tumbled around in his chest at the words, and he whipped around to see Rose staring at him, an unreadable expression on her face. 

Mickey hugged her on his way out before striding confidently out of the TARDIS to who-knows-where, but the Doctor only had eyes for Rose.

“Do I even want to know why you were talking like there are… more of me?” Rose asked, voice thick and strained.

“I--Well, in theory, there are,” the Doctor began, before shaking his head. “No, actually, not important right now. We can talk about that later, if you’d like, but Rose… I’m sorry.”

“Doctor,” she sighed, but he shook his head pleadingly. 

“No, let me finish,” he begged. At her hesitant nod, he tried to rearrange his jumble of thoughts in some form of logical order.  

“Rose Tyler,” he said after a long moment, voice unbearably tight, “when you leave, it’ll break both of my hearts. And that’s the thing, Rose, that’s what--that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. That even if you cling to this, cling to me, with everything you have, it’s always, always going to be ‘when.’ It can never be ‘if,’ nothing we do or say or promise can ever change that. And that’s why… that’s why this is so hard for me, why I get scared and do stupid, stupid things sometimes. Because sometimes I look at you, and all I can see is that monumental difference between ‘if’ and ‘when.’”

“Doctor--,” she tried again, but he held up a hand.

“That doesn’t mean it’s right of me,” he continued, and she fell silent as her eyes widened. “That doesn’t mean--,” he tried, hand raking through his hair as he tried to articulate his thoughts. “The thing is, even forever wouldn’t be enough with you,” he managed at last, not quite able to meet her eyes. “So it’s useless running away, you see? I mean, of course you see, you’ve always seen, but I… haven’t. I haven’t until Mickey and I went off and you weren’t there, and I don’t want to waste any more of your life running away from...” he trailed off uncertainly, closing his eyes and wondering how on Earth, literally, humans ever managed to communicate with each other. 

“I work every day to spare my own feelings, but it won’t erase the fact that they’re already there,” he concluded quietly when she remained silent, her slightly teary gaze fixed raptly on his face. 

“You’re a bit rubbish at apologies, still,” she said at last, and he let out a short laugh of pained desperation. “Guess that didn’t change with regeneration.”

“I don’t believe a single one of my bodies has ever been good at apologizing,” he noted regretfully. “Like I said. The big things stay the same. It's just a shame they're not always the good things.” He paused for a moment, before tentatively stepping forward and reaching out a hand questioningly. Rose looked at his outstretched palm for what felt like an eternity before, to his utter relief, gently sliding her fingers over his.

“I’m sorry that I left you behind,” he said, gently stroking his fingers over hers, reaching his other hand up in his eagerness to feel her skin again. “I should’ve found another way.”

Rose shrugged, eyes flickering back to his when his fingers tightened around hers at the sudden motion, as if reluctant to let her go. “They always did say love makes people do crazy things,” she said softly, looking at her shoes because maintaining eye contact for even a moment longer was unbearable. 

“Yeah, well,” the Doctor inhaled stiffly. “Leaving the person stranded without you is not usually the appropriate type of crazy.”

“Well, I’m sure Reinette forgave you in the end,” Rose said bitterly.

The Doctor frowned in confusion. “I… don’t know if that’s true,” he said carefully. “But I don’t… well, it’s not that I don’t care, I do, but I… I’m not worried about if she ever forgave me. I’m worried about if you ever will.”

Rose’s entire body stilled and the Doctor swallowed hard, moving on to gently tracing the veins in her palm.

“But you…” she began, shaking her head slowly. “You loved her.”

His face crumpled a bit, wondering how he’d managed to bungle things so completely with the one person who mattered most to him in the universe. “I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

She blinked quickly, a loose tear leaking down her cheek, and she made a heartbreaking hiccup-y sound when he reached up to gently catch it with his thumb. 

“You don’t have to forgive me, yet,” he said softly. “But… will you give me another chance?” he asked, hearts in his throat. “Come with me again. Let me… let me try again,” he pleaded helplessly. 

“How long were you even gone?” she asked instead of answering, and the Doctor shrugged with forced lightness.

“‘Bout 24 hours,” he replied, though his smile faltered as he recalled how completely insufferable each second had been. He’d meant to jump straight to the future and instead had been forced to spend an entire cursed day without her.

To his shock, a surprised laugh bubbled out of her at his words. 

“Thought it’d be a lot longer than that,” she admitted, and he frowned deeply. “We’re nearly in sync.”

“Longer? ” he asked, horrified. Had she wanted him to leave her for longer? “Did I… did I come back too early?”

Rose shrugged. “I just assumed that you’d….”

“I tried to skip ahead to right now,” the Doctor admitted, and Rose’s breath hitched slightly. “Would’ve been here in no time at all if I hadn’t crashed,” he grimaced, and Rose did let out a giggle that time. “I said it at the very beginning, Rose Tyler, when I thought I was talking to Mickey: I won’t miss any more time with you. I won’t waste any more time with you. Not as long as you’ll stay with me.”

“Okay,” she said, and he nearly fell to his knees in relief. “I… we can try.”

“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly, eyes full of hope. 

“Yeah.”

Mickey, as it turned out, wanted to stay on Earth for a bit again. 

He’d looked up Torchwood in their original universe--the Doctor and Rose had been endlessly amused to find that the origin story of this one appeared to be their werewolf encounter with Queen Victoria--and applied for a job there, wanting to continue helping the way he had in the parallel universe without giving up Rose and Jackie.

And, though both the Doctor and Rose were loath to admit it, he was probably also trying to give them both space. 

The Doctor had been terrified that they wouldn’t be able to re-achieve the bond that they’d had before he’d broken it, but he needn’t have been: on the contrary, it was almost disturbing how easy it was to slide back into old patterns with Rose, all of their matching pieces falling into place, and every day he fell a little further past that point of no return that, in truth, he’d already crossed just days into knowing her. 

He couldn’t really bring himself to care, either. Even as every monster, including the devil himself, threatened to take her away from him, Rose promised him forever, and that was good enough for him. It had to be. They danced around each other still, each interaction deliberately delicate and poignant, and it was all he could do not to push her up against a wall and snog her sometimes.

He swore he would never dismiss the wonder or weight of that promise ever again.

And then Canary Wharf happened.

Rose didn’t understand how she could have a mum living on Earth that knew about her time-travelling with an alien and a best-friend-slash-ex-boyfriend who worked for an alien organization after also travelling with her and her alien, and neither of them thought to call her when ghosts started showing up worldwide.

And, apparently, they did so on schedules.

It turned out that the existence of their universe’s Torchwood wasn’t very funny after all, and suddenly Rose was very, very worried that she hadn’t heard from Mickey, but she didn’t even have time to think about it once the Doctor took off and landed with her mum still on board. 

It was hard to say which Tyler woman was angrier when he dragged Jackie out after him, though it turned out to be for the best. Rose eventually found Mickey, quite on accident, in fact, when he ended up saving her from being escorted out by security. 

She was somewhat relieved to know he had tried to call her, several dozen times if he was to be believed, but none of the calls had gone through. 

The day was, in total, summing up to be a combination of their worst nightmares. 

Daleks. Last time she’d faced them, her Doctor had died and been replaced by an entirely new man, and it had taken her days to accept the fact that the leather jacket and bright blue eyes and wide, goofy grin were now gone and never to be seen again. 

And Cybermen. The Doctor had told her all about his solo adventure with Mickey, and she couldn’t stop the fear that clenched her heart when she realized the creatures (or perhaps machines?) that were responsible for her parallel mum’s death were now here in the building with her real mum. It was almost too much to bear, and then things got tougher. 

“You will be upgraded,” a robotic voice stated, and Rose gasped when she heard her mum’s voice. 

“No, but you can’t, please,” Jackie pleaded before she was drowned out by the sound of shots. 

The Cybermen surrounding her fell suddenly, and Rose’s jaw dropped at the sight of her father standing behind them with a huge weapon. The Doctor’s hand tightened desperately around hers, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. 

“Pete?” her mum whispered, disbelief and hope warring on her face. 

“Hello, Jacks,” Pete Tyler said, and Rose turned and buried her face in the Doctor’s sleeve, tears springing to her eyes at his familiar voice. 

“I said there were ghosts, but that’s not fair,” Jackie said angrily. “Why him?”

“I’m not a ghost,” Pete said calmly, but Jackie shook her head.

“But you’re dead!” she exclaimed, eyes swimming with tears. “You died twenty years ago, Pete.”

“It’s a Pete from a different universe,” the Doctor explained gently, and Rose nearly jumped when she realized that he’d folded her further into his chest at some point, one hand still firmly squeezing hers and the other arm wrapped protectively around her body.

“What’s wrong with Rose?” her mum demanded, and Rose hastily pulled back to offer her mum a watery smile. 

“Sorry, just… a bit much,” Rose said, forcing a smile, eyes flickering to Pete, who was watching her with a sort of terrified fascination. “M’okay.”

“There are parallel worlds, Jackie,” the Doctor continued, resettling them and letting go of Rose’s hand in favor of rubbing Rose’s back soothingly. “Every single decision we make creates a parallel existence, a different dimension where--”

“Oh, you can shut up,” Jackie interrupted, and Rose and Mickey snorted. “Oh, you look old,” Jackie sighed as she looked back at Pete, and Rose wiped at her face again. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to not see someone for decades and then suddenly be faced by all the physical markers of passed time staring back at you, and then realized with a pang that that was precisely why the Doctor had reacted like he had to Sarah Jane. 

Oh. 

“You don’t,” Pete said softly, looking her over, and Rose’s heart cracked when she remembered that the Doctor said that his Jackie had died while he and Mickey were there, only months ago in their timelines. 

“How can you be standing there?” Jackie swallowed, still looking at Pete like he was a mirage. She’d believed in the ghosts with no issue, but this--this. 

“I just got lucky,” Pete said with a small shrug. “Lived my life. You were left on your own. You didn’t marry again, or--”

“There was never anyone else,” Jackie cut him off. “Twenty years, though. Look at me. I never left that flat. Did nothing with myself.”

“I.. It sounds like you brought her up,” he said, nodding in Rose’s direction and exchanging a watery smile with her. “Rose Tyler. That’s not bad.”

“Yeah,” Jackie smiled.

“In my world, it worked,” Pete explained. “All those daft little plans of mine, they worked. Made me rich.”

“I don’t care about that,” her mum dismissed, before shooting a shrewd look at her parallel dad. “How rich?”

“Very,” Pete grinned. 

“I don’t care about that,” her mum repeated with a hint of a mischievous smile. “How very?” 

They all chuckled as a sad sort of smile crossed Pete’s face. 

“Thing is though, Jacks, you’re not my wife,” he said. “I’m sorry, but you’re not. I mean, we both… You know, it’s just sort of… oh, come here,” he said helplessly, and Rose cried as she got to see her parents (or, well, some version of the pair of them) melt into each other for the first time in her memory.

Rose wondered how many times her heart could break. 

When she was sixteen, she’d thought the answer was once. And then she met the Doctor, and her heart had been broken over and over again. It had broken when he’d taken her to see her world burn and told her that it was just him, that he was the last of his kind. It had broken when they’d met that Dalek in Van Statten’s bunker and she’d watched the bravest man she’d ever known shrink in the face of wild, reckless fear until she’d finally gotten through to him. It had broken on Satellite Five when he’d sent her away, and then again in the TARDIS when he’d changed on her without warning. 

He’d broken her heart (and it was active breaking now, not that passive pain from getting hit by the ricochet that had come with her first Doctor) when they’d met Sarah Jane, and again when they’d met Reinette. Sarah Jane had told her that he would be worth the heartbreak, and she’d doubted it for a day, but in the end she’d found the truth in her unlikely friend’s words.  

And she’d come to understand that she broke his hearts, too. She had broken his hearts in 10 Downing Street, when she’d asked him to choose the world over her. And in Van Statten's bunker when she’d been too slow, and on Satellite Five when she’d been shot by the Anne Droid and again when she’d come back to save him. And when she lost her face to the Wire.

She broke his hearts every day just by being human, but he made sure nowadays that she knew he thought she was worth it. 

Today, it was both of their turns at once.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve had it. This world’s going to crash and burn. There’s nothing we can do. We’re going home. Jacks, take this, you’re coming with us,” Pete said, grabbing one of the big, yellow dimension hoppers, and Rose froze. 

That was her mum, and she would…

But that was her dad, or some version of him, and her mum hadn’t been happy since her Pete had died. Rose knew she hadn’t, even if she’d never said. She could never stop her mum from being happy, but….

“But they’re destroying the city,” Jackie protested.

“I’d forgotten you could argue,” Pete chuckled painfully. “It’s not just London, it’s the whole world. But there’s another world just waiting for you, Jacks. Rose too, if she wants,” he added, and Rose was silent, all of the air having been sucked from her lungs. She would lose her mum, her chance at finally having two parents, or she would lose the Doctor. “And it’s safe as long as the Doctor closes the breach. Doctor?”

The Doctor turned to face him, a pair of 3-D glasses perched on his nose. Rose wanted to smile at him, wanted to peck him on the nose and adjust them for him, but she could barely bring herself to move. 

“Oh, I’m ready,” the Doctor assured Pete. “I’ve got the equipment right here. Thank you, Torchwood,” he said, typing into a computer terminal. “Slam it down and close off both universes.”

“Reboot systems,” the computer said. 

“But we can’t just leave,” Rose said, finally finding her voice. “What about the Daleks? And the Cybermen?”

“They’re part of the problem, and that makes them part of the solution,” the Doctor said, voice hard but determined. “Oh, yes! Well? Isn’t anyone going to ask what is it with the glasses?”

“What is it with the glasses?” Rose asked, a tiny smile breaking out across her face when the Doctor turned and beamed full-force at her.

“I can see, that’s what. Because we’ve got two separate worlds, but in between the two separate worlds, we’ve got the Void. That’s where the Daleks were hiding. And the Cybermen travelled through the Void to get here. And you lot, one world to another, via the Void. Oh, I like that, ‘via the Void.’ Look,” he said, handing the 3-D spectacles to Rose.

Hesitantly, she slid them on, blinking in shock when she saw dark particles coating the Doctor, Mickey, and Pete and his entire team, swirling through the air around them like a personalized swarm.

“I’ve been through it,” the Doctor confirmed as Rose stared at him through the lenses. “Do you see?”

“What is it?” Rose asked, idly aware of the computer giving updates in the background. 

“Void stuff,” the Doctor said, and she rolled her eyes at his technical terms.

“Like, er,” she frowned, trying to think. “Background radiation.”

“That’s it,” he encouraged, stepping closer and guiding her by grabbing her upper arms. “Look at the others. And the only ones that haven’t been through the Void? You, and your mother. First time she’s looked normal in all her life.”

“Oi!” Jackie exclaimed, and Rose giggled fondly at their antics before the agonizing realization hit that she might never hear the two of them bicker again, and then she was back to trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

“But the Daleks lived inside the Void,” the Doctor continued, not having noticed the devastation that sliced through her like a knife. “They’re bristling with it. Cybermen, all of them. I just open the Void and reverse. The Void stuff gets sucked back inside.”

“Pulling them all in,” Rose realized, eyes wide. 

“Pulling them all in!” the Doctor confirmed with a satisfied grin. 

“Sorry, what’s the Void?” Mickey asked, confused. 

“The dead space. Some people call it Hell.”

“So you’re sending the Daleks and Cybermen to Hell,” Mickey recapped, awestruck. “Man, I told you he was good,” he said, nodding at Jake, who chuckled and raised his hands in concession.

“But it’s like you said,” Rose said worriedly. “You’ve all got Void stuff. You and Mickey too, since you’ve been to the parallel world. You’ll get pulled in.”

“That’s why you guys should go,” the Doctor said, suddenly serious and solemn and looking every bit his age, and Rose frowned as the computer chimed in again. “Back to Pete’s World,” the Doctor clarified, looking at her, Mickey, and her mum. “Hey, we should call it that, Pete’s World,” he said lightly, but Rose could easily detect the pain beneath his words. “I’m opening the Void, but only on this side. You’ll be safe on that side.”

“And then you’ll close it, for good?” Pete confirmed again.

“The breach itself is soaked in Void stuff. In the end, it’ll close itself. And that’s it. Kaput.”

“But you stay on this side?” Rose asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“But you’ll get pulled in,” Mickey pointed out.

“That’s why I got these,” the Doctor said, gesturing to the magnaclamps he’d towed in from another room earlier. “I’ll just have to hold on tight. I’ve been doing it all my life.”

“I’m staying with you,” Rose stated decisively, and the Doctor gave her an anguished look.

“Once the breach closes, Rose, that’s it. You’ll never see her again,” he said, nodding at Jackie. “Your own mother.”

“No, I’m not going without her,” Jackie interjected.

“Oh, my god. We’re going! We haven’t got time to argue,” Pete said, frustrated. 

“I’ve had twenty years without you, so button it,” Jackie snapped. “I’m not leaving her.”

“You’ve got to,” Rose insisted, turning back to look at her mum with tears in her eyes.

“Well, that’s tough.”

“Mum,” Rose protested, nearly rolling her eyes when the computer piped up again. “I’ve had a life with you for nineteen years, but then I met the Doctor. And all the things I’ve seen him do for me, for you, for all of us, for the whole stupid planet and every planet out there--he does it alone, Mum. But not anymore, because now he’s got me,” she said, swallowing hard and turning to face the Doctor now, whose eyes looked suspiciously wet. 

“I made my choice a long time ago,” she told him carefully, gripping his hands to let him know how serious she was. “And I’m never going to leave you. So what can I do to help?”

All of a sudden, she found herself with her arms full of the Doctor, and she clutched back at him desperately as he buried his face in her neck. 

“Rose, I--” he said, before giving up and pressing a light kiss to her forehead and leaning them together. 

“Reboot in one minute,” the computer said, and the Doctor heaved a deep breath and wrenched himself back. 

“You’ve got to go,” he said urgently to Pete, but Jackie rushed forward to hug Rose. 

“You’ve got to come,” she begged, and Rose hugged her mother as tightly as she could. 

“I can’t,” she said, apology buried deep in every word. “I belong with the Doctor. Just like you belong with Pete. I love you, Mum,” she whispered, and her mum pressed a loud, smacking kiss to her cheek.

“I love you, Rose,” she said, and shrugged Pete off when he tried to tug her away. “Now, hang on,” she protested, and to everyone’s shock she flung her arms around the Doctor.

“Oh,” managed the Doctor, eyes wide, and Jackie laughed tearfully as his arms slowly rose to return the hug.

“You take care of her,” she implored, wiping tears from her eyes as Pete wrapped an arm around her and pulled her away.

“Always,” the Doctor promised, hearts on his sleeve, and the last thing they saw was Jackie’s smile as Pete whisked them away.

“Take care, Rose,” Mickey said, giving her a quick hug and saluting the Doctor teasingly. “See ya, boss.”

“Bye, Micks,” she sniffed, and the Doctor gave him a wry smile. 

“Good luck,” he said, and then they were alone.

The Doctor snapped into action instantly. 

“We’ve got to act fast,” he said, and Rose hurriedly brushed her tears away. “Those coordinates over there, set them all at six. And hurry up.”

Rose practically ran to the terminal, following his instructions and glancing at the monitor. “We’ve got Cybermen on the way up,” she warned.

“How many floors down?” asked the Doctor, adjusting his side.

“Just one.”

“Levers operational,” the computer said. 

“That’s a bit more like it. Bit of a smile. The old team,” Rose teased as the Doctor’s face lit up at the computer’s words. 

“Hope and Glory, Mutt and Jeff, Shiver and Shake,” the Doctor quipped in agreement, picking up one of the enormous magnaclamps and handing it to Rose. 

“Which one’s Shiver?” she asked, bowing slightly over the object’s weight

“Oh, I’m Shake,” he assured her as he went to grab the other clamp. “The Doctor and Rose Tyler, though,” he added with a grin as he heaved his clamp against the wall. “Best team there is,” he said casually, and her breath hitched. “Press the red button,” he instructed a moment later as though nothing had happened, and Rose swore that if she hadn’t been trying to get her own clamp attached to the wall she’d have been snogging him silly already. 

“Why do I need one?” she asked. “I haven’t been through the Void.”

“Better safe than sorry,” the Doctor said darkly, swallowing hard. “You should hang on anyway,” he implored, and she nodded as they got into position behind the levers. “When it starts, just hold on tight. Shouldn’t be too bad for me, shouldn’t be bad at all for you, but the Daleks and Cybermen are steeped in Void stuff. Are you ready?”

Rose nodded, but a quick glance out the window brought a stab of fear to her chest. “So are they,” she added as she looked at the Daleks, and the Doctor took a deep breath.

“Let’s do it!” he yelled, and she flipped her lever.

“Online,” the computer said as she grabbed her magnaclamp.

Rose’s eyes widened as a blinding white light shined out from the breach and a huge wind current seemed to suck matter right into it. The first of the Daleks were swept in, shouting and swiveling their eyestalks but unable to fight off the pull of the Void.

“The breach is open! Into the Void! Ha!” the Doctor yelled, and Rose’s heart plummeted into her stomach when she saw him clinging to his bar, nearly horizontal with the floor. 

Suddenly, a Dalek collided with her lever, and Rose’s eyes widened when the computer said “offline” and she was able to see the suction decrease. Instantly, she let go of the magnaclamp, stumbling a bit against the slightly unnatural pull that had her just off balance. 

“No! Hang on to it!” the Doctor shouted frantically, and she turned to see him clinging to his clamp, eyes blown wide with fear. "Something could still knock you in!"

“I’ve got to get it upright,” she argued, and heaved the lever into its online position.

“Online and locked,” the computer said, and Rose flinched as the suction increased back to its original levels.

“Rose! Hold on!” the Doctor screamed, watching her struggle to avoid the flying bodies of their enemies as she tried to get back to her original safe position. “Hold on to something!”

Rose raced back to her clamp, narrowly avoiding taking a Dalek to the face as it whizzed by her. She met his eyes from across the room, still panicking at the sight of his entire body waving about like a flag, and offered him a cheeky thumbs up as she held tightly.

Finally, finally, the last of the Daleks and Cybermen disappeared, and the Void closed in on itself as the bright light and winds died down. 

“Systems closed,” the computer announced, and the Doctor was across the room in a flash.

“Doctor, wha--” Rose began, and then she found that her lips were suddenly occupied.

He kissed her thoroughly, pressing her to the wall next to her clamp and resting one hand on her waist, the other creeping up through her hair as his thumb brushed her cheek gently, wiping at the faint trace of her earlier tears. She wrapped her arms around him in return as her brain finally caught up with what was happening, one hand sliding around his back and the other running up to tangle with his bloody fantastic hair. 

“You stayed,” he murmured against her lips, eyes closed, and she shivered when she realized she could feel his breath mingling with hers. “Your mum, Mickey, your… your dad,” he said, voice pitching for just a moment.

“Not my dad,” she reminded him, gently caressing his head and flushing as she felt his hand move down to fully cup her cheek. “My dad, he died in 1987 to save the whole world.”

“Still though, a Pete,” he argued, brows furrowed, and she gasped as he kissed the corner of her mouth so softly that she followed his lips a bit when he pulled away. “That world, Pete’s World,” he said helplessly. “A gingerbread house. A siren call. I thought… I thought…”

“Nah,” she said, straightening up with a smile and reaching her other arm up to slide around his neck, determined to make the next kiss last even longer. “Everything that calls to me is all right here.”