Chapter Text
Trade centers were usually chaotic, and this one was no different.
Cultures from all over this sector of the galaxy came to trade at this asteroid, blending together into a jumble of stores and booths that lined every corner of the crowded streets. Vendors from all manner of species called out their wares to passersby…clothing and trinkets and more varieties of food than he could count… and there was a customer at nearly every booth. Still more visitors filled the streets, jostling each other as they attempted to get to wherever they happened to be going, or just appreciating the sights. The whole place was a sea of color and noise and activity…and honestly, the Doctor wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Rose was equally in her element here, and was currently several booths ahead of him, examining the contents and engaging one of the vendors in conversation. As he watched, they appeared to begin negotiating over some unseen object, and he grinned. There was no doubt in his mind that Rose would end up walking away with half the booth if she set her mind to it, and he pitied any vendor who happened to think differently.
Leaving them to it, he moved back so he could observe their surroundings without getting run over by absentminded or distracted pedestrians (as had already happened once today, and one near-trampling a day was quite enough, thank you very much).
A voice startled him out of his reverie.
“Tell your fortune, sir?”
Turning around in surprise, he found himself facing a young-ish alien with too many limbs and too few facial features. She was looking right at him, a questioning look in her eyes, and it was only then that he registered in earnest that she had been speaking to him.
“Excuse me?”
“Tell your fortune?” she repeated. “It won’t take long.”
“I don’t put much stock in fortune tellers,” he told her frankly, reflecting on the irony of having his future told by anyone, much less a stranger on the streets of a trade asteroid. “No offense.”
“None taken,” she replied, to his surprise not sounding the least bit insulted. “Still…it’s a slow day, and since you’re practically on my doorstep as it is…”
She made a gesture that was probably her species’ equivalent of a shrug.
“I’ll even do it for half price.”
They were standing in front of a small, semi-temporary-looking structure that was somewhere between a tent and a booth. A nearby, handwritten sign advertised: “Fortune Telling. The future revealed for only 10 coins.” The tent was one of the only empty places on the whole street, and he couldn’t help but feel bad about that. Guessing or not, she was just trying to make a living.
Besides, he couldn’t deny a bit of curiosity about what she’d come up with.
“All right,” he agreed, fishing out a few of the coins that served as this place’s currency. (Contrary to Rose’s belief, he did sometimes carry money, though he generally didn’t bother with it.) “I’ll bite. Predict away. But I should warn you…”
“…you’re a skeptic?”
“Look at that. You are psychic.”
It was a bit difficult to tell, but he was fairly certain she smiled, and she ducked inside the tent-booth-thing. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Rose was still where he’d left her, and still occupied with her negotiations, he followed.
The fabric walls were as brightly colored as her clothing, and the whole place smelled like someone had left a scented candle burning for a bit too long, despite the fact that it was open to the world outside. There was a small table in the middle of it, with one seat on either side. The fortune teller sat down in one of them and gestured to the other.
“You really go all out with the atmosphere,” he commented, raising an eyebrow at the large crystal in the center of the table.
She seemed to laugh as she pushed the crystal aside.
“People have certain…expectations…for things like this. Who am I to deny them their show?”
That made a certain amount of sense, and the pragmatic nature of her reply caught him off guard. He’d been expecting her to play up the mysterious role this place and her supposed trade seemed to indicate, but instead, she seemed remarkably level-headed for someone who went around charging money to tell fortunes.
She held out one of her many limbs.
“Give me your hand.”
Skeptically, he did as he was told, and she turned it so that the palm was facing upward. For a long moment, she scrutinized the hand he’d offered her, examining it as intently as if it were something of great worth.
“Might I ask why you’re so skeptical?” she asked after a few seconds, not looking up.
He considered his reply for a moment, and finally settled on the truth.
“The future isn’t set in stone. Time doesn’t work like that, not really.”
“I can respect that belief,” she said, and he contemplated telling her it wasn’t just a belief, it was something he knew for a fact. But what would be the point?
She grew quiet again, her sinewy hand clasping his in a grip that was surprisingly confident, an unfamiliar touch that he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to prolong much longer. The silence stretched on, and finally, he felt the need to break it.
“So…is this actually necessary, or is it just another part of the show?”
She glanced up and shot him a look that appeared to be somewhere between an amused ‘what-do-you-think’ and an annoyed ‘shut-up-and-let-me-do-my-job.’ But she released his hand and turned her attention to his face.
“You’re not from around here,” she said after a moment.
Considering he was wearing clothing that was very obviously not from anywhere in this sector or time period, he wasn’t very impressed with her insight. He knew that most fortune tellers managed to utilize a combination of vagueness and keen-eyed observation in their ‘predictions,’ but he still found himself a bit disappointed. Part of him had wanted to be surprised.
“You’re from far away,” she continued. “And you’ve just recently arrived.”
Again, fairly easy for her to deduce.
“You didn’t come here alone.”
“I was right outside the tent,” he couldn’t help but point out. Well, he’d never promised to make things easy. “You could have seen me with my friend.”
“More than a friend, I’d say,” she commented, and he shrugged noncommittally, not giving her anything to work with. “Far more.”
She stared at him for a moment, and he observed that her eyes were about the only notable feature in her face.
“You’re both from far away,” she reiterated. “Especially you. So, so far. And you’ve seen so much.”
Now her eyes were almost boring into him, and he was starting to feel uneasy with the directness of her stare. It was like she was looking right through him, and he didn’t like feeling transparent, especially these days.
“You’re impossibly old, aren’t you?” she murmured.
Without warning, she caught hold of his hand again, tugging it forward for them both to see.
“Your hands are the hands of one who has borne countless years, and one who has suffered greatly. Your eyes even more so.”
He didn’t like the route this conversation was taking at all, uncomfortable with her level of insight, and he pulled his hand free again. But he kept his expression calm and casual, centuries of experience helping him to hide any undue emotion, and he met her gaze evenly.
“I thought you were supposed to be telling my future. Not my past.”
She sat back, her eyes never leaving his as she scrutinized him, a new kind of intensity in her steady gaze. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t match, but it was still a sight to behold.
And for the first time, he had the disconcerting feeling that this might be something more than an act. More than a show put on to earn a few coins at a trade market.
Whatever it was, it was a far cry from the girl who had practically jested with him just minutes before.
The tent was silent, the ever-present noise from the outside strangely muted by the fabric walls surrounding them, and he knew Rose would soon notice his absence. Neither of them was very comfortable letting the other out of their sight for very long anymore, and even if it was getting easier with time, he still knew that an unexplained absence would still alarm her more than necessary. Even as he thought this, the fortune teller across from him stirred, and narrowed her eyes at him.
“You’re very selfish, you know.”
Whatever he’d expected her to say, whatever insight or prediction he’d expected her to send his way…it wasn’t that.
“What?” he demanded, not even bothering to hide his surprise.
“She would be far safer if she were away from you.”
The words were like a cold wind blowing through the tent, and he sat back, his hearts clenching as he tried not to show how much this simple statement shocked him. And how much it gutted him.
How could she possibly know…?
“All that suffering…it follows you. Shadows you, hounds you, and you’re not always the bearer. You’ve been the cause. And by keeping her by your side, you risk her life and her safety.”
“You make it sound like I’m dragging her along against her will,” he snapped, momentarily forgetting that this was a complete stranger who he had no need to defend himself to, no matter what she thought she knew or how she happened to know it.
Momentarily forgetting that he could get up and walk out of here anytime…that he didn’t have to be here or listen to this.
Momentarily feeling the need to justify things to her.
(And to himself…)
“It’s her choice. And she’s made it clear.”
“And if she wanted to leave?” the fortune teller leaned forward, deadly serious. “If she chose to?”
He couldn’t deny the slight, instinctive shiver these words prompted, but before he could even begin to formulate a response to her challenge, she’d continued.
“You see?” she asked quietly. “Even the mere thought…the mere possibility…is abhorrent to you. Unthinkable.”
Her eyes softened.
“You can’t let her go. You’re in too deep. You’ve given too much of yourself this time.”
He didn’t bother protesting, because he knew it was true. Had known it to be true for a long time now, and Rose knew it too. He’d allowed himself to acknowledge it, surrendered to what had ultimately been inevitable, and allowed himself to need her and let that need be known…and he was fully aware of the cost of this decision. He just didn’t care anymore. Hadn’t cared, ever since that night in the field on a planet that became their refuge and ultimately their sanctuary. Because she was worth it.
“You love her.”
He wasn’t in the business of denying it anymore, and besides, he was beginning to be fairly certain this fortune teller would sense his deception if he did.
“Yes.”
“But you don’t trust her.”
He sat back as if her words were a physical force.
“What?”
“You don’t trust her.”
“That’s not true. You don’t know us, and you have no idea…”
“Not completely,” she interrupted him as though he hadn’t spoken. “ Not with everything. You won’t…you can’t.”
Something changed in her eyes, and if the tent had felt chilled before, now it was like an icy wind was sweeping through. His hearts, already pounding, began to race, and he clenched his fists reflexively.
“But very soon you’re going to have to.”
“What do you mean?”
“You wanted a prediction…here it is. A time is coming when you will be left with nothing, with no defenses and no choice. And you’re going to have to trust her. Completely.”
“What’s going to happen?” When had he stopped questioning whether she was telling the truth? What was even going on here? “What are you talking about?”
“It may be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But the walls must be brought down, and when the time comes, your very survival may well depend on that trust. On her.”
He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his stool in the process. This had been a bad idea to begin with, he should have known, and he didn’t want to hear any more of this. True or false, lies or prophecy, this had gotten out of hand, and she wasn’t going to give him any more information than that. Foreknowledge was dangerous, and more importantly, it was quite often binding.
And he’d had quite enough prophesies for one lifetime.
“Enough,” he said, dropping the coins on the table and turning to leave. “We’re done here.”
“Doctor.”
He froze.
He’d never told her his name.
Reluctantly, he turned to look back at her, and he was caught off guard by the sympathy that filled even her mostly featureless face. She seemed genuinely sorry for what she’d told him, which just disquieted him all the more. But she seemed equally determined to convey one more piece of information.
“You’re going to lose her, you know.”
He struggled to keep from bolting, or otherwise betraying the emotions he was fighting to contain. This was all too close to home.
“It’s inevitable. It always has been, and you’ve known it from the start. A storm is coming, and the valiant child must go to battle.”
“How can you possibly know that?” he whispered, feeling a surge of fear at the reiteration of the Beast’s words, as well as his own from just a few days ago. “What are you?”
She didn’t answer his question, and only gazed at him solemnly.
“You’re going to lose her,” she repeated, her voice very quiet. “But your choices will dictate when.”
Without another word, he turned his back and ducked out of the tent, practically stumbling into the fresh air and busy streets outside. It was like stepping into another world, like stepping off of a rocking boat onto solid ground, and he struggled to catch his breath and calm his racing hearts. Resisting the urge to flee even further, to run until he could run no more, as he’d done since he was a child.
Anxiously, he looked to where he’d last seen Rose, and he felt a surge of terror when he saw that she wasn’t there. But the next second, she appeared in front of him, smiling and cheerful and completely oblivious to what had just happened.
“Hey!” she exclaimed, grinning at him. “There you are.”
“Hey,” he managed to reply.
“Look what I got.” She held out her hand, displaying a small object that looked to be made from some sort of metal. “Apparently it’s called ‘bazoolium.’ It can actually predict the weather. Gets hot when it’s going to be sunny, and cold when it’s going to rain.”
“Brilliant,” he responded, trying to sound as enthusiastic as he would have on any other occasion.
“Mum’s always complaining about the weather, so I figured she’d like it. It’ll make a nice gift to make up for the fact that someone hasn’t replaced my phone, and preventing her from calling me…”
She trailed off, knowing him well enough to recognize that something wasn’t right.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he forced himself to smile, already feeling the panic dissipating under the open sky, the dread beginning to recede. “Your mum’s going to love it.”
“Hope so,” Rose agreed, still watching him with more than a little suspicion. “So what have you been up to?”
Before he could answer, she glanced past him and apparently spotted the fortune teller’s sign.
“A fortune teller? Seriously?”
“It was just for a laugh,” he shrugged. The tent was closed now, the fabric pulled tight as if to shut out the world. “There weren’t any customers, and she even gave me a discount.”
“Softy. Anything interesting in your future?”
“Oh, just the usual. You’ll live a long and happy life…beware of tall, dark strangers…that sort of thing.”
She glanced at him, and all at once, he could hear the fortune teller’s words.
You don’t trust her. Not completely.
“Probably not worth it, but hey, at least she got some business.”
“Still, sounds like fun. Maybe I should get mine told too,” Rose suggested, taking a step towards the tent.
He quickly caught hold of her arm, stopping her before she could get any closer.
“Nah,” he said, trying to keep his expression casual and lighthearted. “Like I said, it’s not worth it…and besides, I can see about ten different kinds of food just from where we’re standing, and it’s making me hungry.”
Not a complete lie…he was hungry. But that wasn’t his primary motivation, and he had the distinct impression that Rose sensed there was something he was holding back. However, she usually knew when to press him and when to let things go, and this apparently (and fortunately) fell straight into the latter category.
“Fine,” she said, taking his hand and letting him pull her back into the streets. “But you’re not making me eat anything weird.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Currently lagging behind.”
“Spoilsport.”
As they walked hand in hand down the bustling streets, and the fortune teller’s tent grew more distant behind them, he felt himself beginning to return to a state of relative calm. He even felt a tad foolish at his strong reaction. After all, he had no way of actually knowing she was speaking the truth about what might happen…or even if she was, it was impossible to know what sort of events she was actually referring to. Predictions were often frustratingly vague that way. Not that the alternative was much better. Again, foreknowledge was dangerous.
Determinately, he pushed the entire encounter into the corner of his brain where he stored Things Not To Think About, and resolved to do his best to forget it.
But even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
‘You’re going to have to trust her.’
Again he sensed it.
‘You’re going to lose her.’
A storm was coming.
And the valiant child would die in battle…
No.
He tightened his grip on Rose’s hand, feeling her warmth and her presence and her single human pulse, and the pressure of her hand against his.
And if he’d had it his way, he’d never have let go.