Work Text:
The Tardis beeped loudly, interrupting the Doctor’s intense brooding, making him run over to the console, excitement already brewing in him.
“Oh, what do we have this time, old girl?” he asked idly, grinning as he examined the source of the beep .
He welcomed this distraction wholeheartedly, even had been eagerly awaiting it. He’d just had to drop Donna off home, and although she’d tried to reassure him that she’d only be going for a visit, he had unfortunately allowed himself to spiral. His touchy mood and intense fears of abandonment had come back in full swing in the last few hours. Of course, he could have simply travelled forward in time by a week to pick her up, but he refused. Punishing himself for a week sounded just fine, he told himself bitterly.
“Ooh,” he hummed out loud to no one, fiddling with the computer screen, “transdimensional disturbance in central London, right nearby, actually…”
The Tardis was parked, now, not in the Vortex. It was near enough to Donna’s that she could come running back if she decided that her family (namely her mother) was too much to bear. In a stroke of luck, or coincidence, whatever the temporal disturbance was had happened merely a block away.
The Doctor bounced up, curiosity getting the best of him, and fished out an old handheld device from underneath the grating. It was supposed to seek out stray dimensional energy – void stuff , he thought, as an onslaught of memories hit him at the phrase.
Pushing them away as fast as he could, he dusted off the small machine, powering it on, then rushed out of the Tardis.
Entering the bustle of central London, he hit the device a few times, muttering to himself. Finally, it dinged , nudging him in a certain direction. “Brilliant,” he said happily to himself.
So far, nothing seemed off . London was as grey and wet as normal, and the people rushed about regularly, not concerned about anything world-altering. He could probably rule out a crashed spaceship, then, or a full-blown invasion. For now.
After a minute of walking, the device let off a few more stray dings , and he noticed one fairly unusual thing among the bustle.
A young girl was sitting by herself on a bench, her cheeks tear-stained, looking like she was on the verge of a panic attack. He quirked his eyebrow as she stuffed her face into her arms, sniffling.
For whatever reason, he felt drawn to her. She couldn’t be older than sixteen, and she had been looking around like a lost puppy – perhaps he could just make sure she was alright, or help her find her parents…
Before he knew it, he was plopping down next to her, carefully asking, “You alright?”
“Sod off, mate,” was her reply.
Fair , he thought. Just then, the device dinged loudly. He cackled. “Ah! It worked! It dinged, look at that!” The girl looked up, her face scrunched in confusion. “I don’t get it. It’s only supposed to ding when there’s void stuff. Although, I suppose that’s a rubbish way to programme it considering I’m holding it, and I’m certainly covered in void stuff –”
He smacked it, disappointed in it. “Argh. Blasted thing. Don’t suppose you’ve seen anything strange lately?”
The Doctor looked at the girl, who was staring at him strangely, almost in apprehension. She hesitated, then asked, “Strange…?”
He nodded. “Mm hmm, strange. Weird. Odd. Out of the usual. Insane. Wacky. Astonishing, even.”
“Bizarre.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. She shrugged. “You missed bizarre. I don’t know how, considering that’s, like, the best synonym for strange.”
“That’s subjective,” he said hurriedly, frowning. “You can’t choose a ‘best’ adjective –”
“Are you the Doctor?”
He paused. The machine dinged again. “Yes, I am. Who are you?”
The girl straightened up and reached into her jacket, handing him a note. “I dunno what void stuff is, but if you’re looking for something strange, you found it, I think.”
The Doctor took the envelope, but didn’t open it. His eyes narrowed at her in slight suspicion. “I ask again, who are you?”
He shook her hand. “Mia Tyler. Apparently I’m from a parallel world.”
The Doctor’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He tore into the letter as fast as he could, his respiratory bypass kicking in.
Doctor,
The girl who gave you this letter is my daughter, Mia. Please take care of her. I love her more than anything. She’s going to be quite confused and likely angry with me, but she’s smart. She’ll listen to you, I hope.
I’ve sent her to you because we are in grave danger. I can’t specify here, but there are people after me and Mia. I need you to follow the coordinates I listed at the end; there is a crack in the universal walls, and you’ll be able to get through to rescue me. But, Doctor, you have to keep Mia safe above everything else. If it’s too dangerous, leave me.
I built a dimension canon to take her to you. It won’t work anymore, but I didn’t tell her that. I don’t want her to think about not seeing me again. Please, Doctor, keep her safe. The people after us aren’t capable of universal travel at the moment, so she’ll be safe there, at home.
I’m so sorry I couldn’t speak to you on better terms, Doctor. I hope I’ll see you again. If I don’t, don’t blame yourself. I chose this life. Remember that.
Xoxo, Rose Tyler
P.s. ; remember what I said on the beach.