Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Run for the shadows, run for the shadows 

Run for the shadows in these golden years"

- David Bowie, “Golden Years”

******** 

“It’s late.”

“I know,” said Rose Noble. The Doctor's niece was focused, barely paying his entrance heed. She pulled another piece of thread through her needle. “Just want to finish up. Promised I would ship this out before Christmas.” 

The Doctor leaned against the door of the shed, crossing his arms. “Well, you best hurry up before your mum checks the time.”

Rose paused. “Is she watching that dating show?”

“Unfortunately,” answered the Doctor. “Why?”

She smiled and resumed her work, leaning back into her desk chair. “I have nothing to worry about then. She’s probably too busy throwing things at the screen and calling people ‘dumbos.’ It’s the finale tonight.” 

“I will never understand why your mother cares so much about it,” the Doctor sighed. He stepped into the shed, closing the door behind him. “I’ve seen countless reality shows and that’s got to be one of the worst.” 

“As if you wouldn’t love being on it, Doctor,” Rose chuckled. She turned her body to look at him. “I bet you’d eat up a show like that if you were a contestant.”

“I was on Big Brother once,” said the Doctor, pursing his lips. “Wasn’t a great experience.”

Rose raised her eyebrows. “Really? You?”

“Well, not the one you know,” the Doctor clarified. He plopped down on a beanbag, his coattails swooshing up in the air as he sank to the floor. “Broadcasted around the year 200,100. Contestants got vaporized if they were voted off.”

Rose nearly dropped her needle. “Are you serious?”

“Entirely.” The Doctor drummed his fingers on his knee. “It was put on by this place called Bad Wolf Stat-” He cut himself as soon as a flash of blonde hair appeared in his mind. “But…that’s a story for another time. Too long and complicated,” he said, changing the subject. 

He knew that would make Rose suspicious. The Doctor loved long, complicated stories. But, if she sensed something was off, she didn’t show it. “Whatever you say, Doctor,” said Rose, turning her focus back to sewing. 

“I quite like that one.” The Doctor gestured toward the stuffed toy Rose was making. “Although, I love all your goonks. Ooh, goonks,” he repeated, stretching out the double o. “That’s such a fun word, goonks. Goonks, goonks, goo-” 

“Do all billion-year-olds have the mind of a toddler,” Rose interrupted, “or just you?” 

“Only the smartest ones.” The Doctor grinned brightly, causing Rose to shake her head. 

This particular goonk was a hand-sized Slitheen puppet, and Rose had done an excellent job. She spent hours researching different shades of green fabric, wanting to get it exactly right. Although the visions weren’t as common as when she had the meta crisis inside her, images of creatures still lingered in her mind. It would be a while before they’d finally fade away. After all, she had all those little memories floating around in her head since birth, waiting to break out. 

It had been a year since everything changed for the Noble family. A year since the Doctor had settled down, trading the vastness of all of time and space for the simple life. The one adventure he could never have. But now, after all those battles, all the war and rage, the Doctor had finally taken time to rest. For the first time in millions of years, he felt at home. Everything was right, and yet, there was still something, or rather someone, that was missing. This daft old face of his had come back, and with it an avalanche of memories he’d rather keep buried. 

The onset of a familiar ache loomed in the Doctor’s chest. Track record isn’t great today, he thought, irritated at himself. 

“Uh, hello?” said Rose, waving a hand at him. “You’re doing that thing again.” 

The Doctor shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts. “What thing ?” he asked, unsure if he should be offended. 

Rose sighed, putting the Slitheen toy down in her lap. “That lost in your own head thing,” she said, sharply. “You’ve been acting strange lately, Doctor.”

“Strange how?” The Doctor knew exactly why he was acting this way, but didn’t quite feel like delving into it. 

Then, he was utterly surprised when Rose Noble said: “It’s her again, isn’t it?” 

“Her…as in, um, who?” the Doctor stumbled. 

“You don’t need to do that, you know.” Rose abandoned the Slitheen entirely, pushing it to the corner of her desk. She turned his chair around to face the Doctor. Now he couldn’t escape. 

“Do what?” said the Doctor, feigning ignorance. 

Rose crossed her legs, probably as an interrogation tactic. Figures that the Doctor would be older than most civilizations, and still be intimidated by a fifteen-year-old. She got that from her mother. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re hinting at,” he defended, although he was definitely losing this cross-examination. 

“Act like you don’t think about Rose Tyler all the time.” 

And there it was. The Doctor took a deep breath. “Rose, please don’t,” he said gently. 

“Doctor, I think you sometimes forget that I’ve had access to that mind of yours,” Rose reminded him. “That woman has popped up in my dreams more times than I can count, let me tell you.” 

The Doctor stared at the carpet. “Have you now? Wonder why that is.” 

“I-,” Rose started to say something but hesitated. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Look. When I chose my new name, there was only one clear answer. Out of all the names, all those timelines and planets and people you’ve come across, one name was screaming out, and I think you damn well know why Doctor.” 

“I do,” the Doctor barely admitted. “She meant a lot, Rose Tyler.”

“Just a lot? Doctor, you lo-”

“And what gives you any right to bring that up?” The Doctor’s tone turned sharp, but he immediately softened once he saw how taken aback Rose looked. She was right, too right. 

He loved Rose Tyler. He had since the day they first ran together in Hendrik’s basement. For years he’d gotten by escaping those feelings. He tried to mold himself into a version apart from her. It was easy enough when he turned into a different person. Yet, all the floppy hair, a Scottish accent, and rainbow-striped shirts did naught for him. 

He still loved her, after all this time. The Doctor wasn’t the type to stop, but that didn’t quite mean he was ready to say those words out loud. 

Why did it have to be so difficult? In this old new body, more than ever, he said the word love so freely. He said it for Donna. He said it for Wilf. Even Sarah Jane, and she was long gone. But Rose Tyler? Well…only one Doctor had admitted that, and it wasn’t him. 

******** 

One Year Earlier

Bi-generation was a myth passed down amongst Time Lords. It couldn’t possibly exist. But the Doctor tested the limits of what was possible all the time, didn’t he? 

The Fifteenth Doctor crossed his arms as he leaned on the TARDIS console, giving the Fourteenth Doctor a scrutinizing look. The numbers of his forms were irrelevant but proved helpful in coping with this discovery. He had met and talked with different versions of himself across timelines. But now, as the Doctor stood across from himself, a version split from his very body, he understood this was something new. 

The Doctor was talking to himself, exactly as he was now. And he was being torn asunder. 

“Our whole lifetime, that Doctor that first met the Toymaker, never, ever stopped,” said Fifteen, relaying their life story. “Put on trial. Exiled. Key to Time. All the devastation of Logopolis.” 

“Adric,” Fourteen managed to mumble in response. One of his first losses in a long line of them. 

“River Song,” Fifteen added, holding out his hands in dismay. “Sarah Jane has gone. Can you believe that for a second?” 

Fourteen lowered his gaze in respect, overcome with an uncomfortable swell of emotion. He looked back up, and admitted what he could. “I loved her.”

“I loved her,” Fifteen reiterated, breathing shakily. Then, he held the opposite Doctor’s gaze so intensely as he said the next words: “And Rose.” 

Fourteen tightened his lips in response, his face appearing more tired than ever. And he was tired. Utterly exhausted as a matter of fact. 

It was time to stop running. 

It was time to take a breath. 

******** 

And Rose. Two words, that’s all it took. So why couldn’t he manage to get that out himself? As ancient as he was, there were times when the Doctor felt like he knew nothing at all. 

“Doctor?”

He blinked, brought back to the conversation at hand. “Yes?”

“Are you content to keep staring off? Or are we going to finish this conversation?” Rose seemed irritated at the Doctor’s distraction, as was her right. He wasn’t paying as much attention to it as he ought. 

The Doctor rubbed his eyes, then made a move to stand up. “I think it best if we continue another time, love,” he admitted.

Rose bit her lip, clearly wanting more out of him. She wouldn’t get it, not tonight, perhaps not ever. But just like her mother, Rose Noble wasn’t one to go down without a fight. The Doctor was sure his swift exit tonight would result in a future argument later. 

“Just know that, if you ever do find yourself thinking about her again, you can talk about it with me,” offered Rose. She meant it, wholeheartedly. 

“And that means a lot,” said the Doctor, lingering toward the shed door. “I’ve got to say, you’re a far better niece than I am an uncle.” 

“Well, you better take my advice then,” she teased, smugly. 

The Doctor smiled, but Rose noticed that it didn’t quite reach the edges of his face like usual. “Goodnight, Rose. Sleep well.” 

With that, the Doctor stepped out of the shed and was met with the starry expanse of the sky. He looked up, surprised at the lack of clouds obstructing the view. Despite his best efforts, another flash of Rose Tyler appeared in his mind. How long ago was it that she traveled the multiverse, warning people about the stars going out? He hoped the stars shone as brightly in Pete’s World as they did here. She deserved that reward. 

He never said goodbye to her, the last time he saw her. The Doctor simply left as soon as Rose embraced the Metacrisis version of him. Perhaps if he had, that overwhelming sense of regret plaguing him now would disappear. He would give anything for that, anything. 

“I wish I had another chance, a chance to speak with her,” he whispered, perhaps the specter of Rose that haunted him; perhaps to himself. The Doctor was unsure why he felt compelled to voice that desire aloud, but he uttered the words nonetheless. 

******** 

Bound in the depths of its own rules, a lone figure listened and giggled. 

Wishes are a powerful thing, it thought, especially when shared. 

But he was getting ahead of himself. Oh yes, he was. 

The Toymaker was never a patient being, not like the one who waits. 

That was a story for another time, another Doctor. 

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun in the meantime. Now did it? 

The Doctor had won, and still, he wanted more. Such a pity. 

Such a pity. 

I wish. Two words with so much power. 

The Toymaker couldn’t wait to make use of them.

Chapter Text

“Seeing more and feeling less

Saying no but meaning yes

This is all I ever meant

That's the message that I sent”

- David Bowie, “I Can’t Give Everything Away”

********

Rose Tyler had been many things in her life. Whether a time traveler, Torchwood agent, or shop assistant, she faced unique challenges and was always equipped to solve them on the fly. She had taken the time vortex into her mind to defeat the Dalek empire, jumped across universes to stop the stars from going out, and started a new life with the metacrisis Doctor in Pete’s World. As far as Rose was concerned, she deserved a simple life, the kind that nineteen-year-old her tried so hard to escape from. 

But why did no one tell her that getting her daughter to stay for dinner would be so damn difficult? 

“Mia, please,” said Rose, sternly. “You saw her yesterday. Do you really need to go out again tonight?” Rose had to put down the knife she was using to chop vegetables, for fear she might accidentally cut herself during this fit. 

“But Karin’s mum asked me to go already,” Mia said, as if that should justify anything. Rose’s daughter stood by the door of their flat, shoes on and ready to go. “It’s Phở night. The entire family gets together to make it from scratch.” 

Rose tried her best not to roll her eyes. “So I guess her family gets priority over ours then?” 

Mia did the eye rolling for her, an expression too similar to Rose’s own. “Mum, that’s not what I mean. It’s just,” she paused, “Karin and have been together for eight months. Eight months.”

“And I’m happy for you. We’ve discussed this. Karin is lovely,” Rose said with a genuine smile on her face. “It’s just, you don’t have to spend every waking moment together.”

Mia scrunched her nose. “We don’t.”

“You do.” 

“Well, so do you and Dad,” said Mia, pointing to the man in question. 

“Your mother and I are married,” said the Doctor, his back to the fighting pair as he carefully seared sirloin steaks on the stove. Rose found it charming, the fact that he refused to take his eyes off the meat. She knew full well it was because last time, the Doctor burned the whole lot of them. Rose teased him endlessly about it. “And we’re adults,” he added. “We can do whatever we like, love.” 

“It’s not fair!” Mia declared, like she was the first teenager to ever think that. 

“I think it is,” countered Rose. “You promised us yesterday that you would eat dinner with us tonight. It’s not our fault you double-booked yourself.” 

“Listen to your mother, Mia,” said the Doctor. Rose was grateful for the backup. Her daughter tended to take her father’s side in these matters. 

Rose sighed and wiped her hands on her apron. She walked over to Mia and held out her hands. “Come on,” she said.

Mia groaned, but she accepted the gesture. She placed her hands in her mother’s. 

“Look at me, please,” said Rose, staring at her daughter’s distracted face. 

Thankfully, Mia returned the eye contact. “Fine.” Mia was the spitting image of her mother, with the exception of blue eyes instead of brown. For Rose, it was like looking through a mirror to her past, to days of Jimmy Stone, late-night bus rides, and arguments with her own mother. 

“You may forget this, but I was once young and in love too,” Rose shared. “I know how hard it is to be apart from that person. Believe me.” 

A flash of a brown pinstripe suit appeared in her mind. She did her best to ignore it. 

“But I want to make sure you have time for yourself too. Time for your family. How can you know who you are, if you only ever spend your time with one person? Do you understand?” 

“I understand,” said Mia, scrunching her lip. 

Rose sighed, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “Now, I may regret this, but can you promise me something?”

Mia’s eyes brightened, the sign of a victor. “Yes!” She said, too loudly. 

The Doctor chuckled. “Someone’s happy.” 

“Oh hush,” said Rose, turning her head back briefly to look at him. Luckily, he took his eyes off his task for a brief moment and winked. Her heart soared at that little gesture. She put her attention back on Mia. “If I let you go tonight, do you promise you’ll only stay there for dinner? You come home right after. It’s movie night.” Rose’s eyes twinkled with excitement. 

Thursdays were sacred in the Tyler household. That’s when Rose and Mia had their mother-daughter movie nights. They would go to the nearby chippy, come back and bundle up in the family room, and rifle through an old DVD collection from Rose’s dad. 

“So, you’re saying I can go?” Mia raised an eyebrow. 

Rose laughed softly. “Only if you agree to the terms. Dinner, and then straight back here. Do you promise?” 

“Yes! I promise,” exclaimed Mia, wrapping her mother in for a quick hug. She quickly scrambled to grab her bag off the coat rack, blew a quick kiss to Rose, and bid goodbye to her dad. Mia was out the door before Rose even had time to process. 

Rose’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Would it kill her to just say ‘thank you’ every once in a while?” 

Two arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a hug behind. Rose smiled, relaxing into the embrace of her husband. The Doctor kissed the top of her head. “That would be the Time Lord in her. Always rushing away to the next exciting thing,” he commented. 

“Oddly self-aware tonight, are we?” Rose japed. 

“Aren’t I always?” 

“Mhm,” she sounded. Rose broke the Doctor’s hold for a brief moment, turning to face him. She looked up into his eyes, eyes so intimately familiar to her. 

It had been sixteen years since Rose’s husband came to Pete’s World. Sixteen years since the stars went out across universes. Sixteen years since Rose last saw the original Doctor, the one she traveled through space and time with. The metacrisis gifted Rose with something she thought impossible: the mind of the Time Lord she fell in love with, in a human body. He could age the same as her, walk through life as she did. 

It would be a lie to say it had been easy, accepting the metacrisis Doctor. At first, he offered to go by a different name to make it easier for her, an offer she steadfastly refused. Even if it wasn’t the Doctor she first set foot on the TARDIS with, it was still the same man, in a different form. Regeneration could perform all sorts of wonders. 

Plus, this Doctor had managed to say those three little words the other could never manage: I love you. She had always known it to be true, but sometimes, words did need saying. 

Everything fell into place once Rose and her Doctor had Mia. Mia was their world, their greatest adventure yet. Rose would give anything to make sure she did this adventure right. 

And Rose was happy, truly, astonishingly happy. 

And yet…an unsettling desire lurked beneath the surface. A curiosity; a selfish, selfish curiosity. 

She wanted to go back home. Not home as in the one she had in Pete’s World, but her original universe. The universe where she grew up and traveled. Things were different here. Street names were unfamiliar, blimps floated across the sky, and there was an ever-pervading sense that Rose was an unnatural presence. She could never truly feel like she belonged here. Rose was never meant to exist in this world. Back home, there were people she wanted to check on. Mickey, Jack, and especially the Time Lord that left her on Bad Wolf Bay all those years ago. 

Because even if Rose now had this life with her Doctor, there was something unfinished with the one on the other side of the walls between worlds. Who had he become? Did he picture her as she pictured him? 

Rose knew it was a silly dream. She was more than content here. But she was human, and humans want things they can’t have. 

“What is it?” 

“Huh?” Rose snapped back to reality, meeting the Doctor’s scrutinizing gaze. 

“What’s got a hold on your mind?” He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

“I wish…”

“You wish?” 

“Nevermind, it doesn’t matter,” she said, brushing the thought off. 

The Doctor narrowed his brow, knowing full well that it did matter. However, he let her be. “Well,” he said, leaning down to give her a quick peck on the lips, “if our daughter won’t be joining us, that means we’ll be feasting on extra tonight.” 

“Perfect.” Rose smiled, perhaps a bit tensely. “Although, weren’t you supposed to be looking after the main course?” 

Almost as if on cue, the kitchen smoke alarms blasted on. The couple turned to the stove, where a plume of smoke was emerging from a pan. 

The Doctor sighed deeply. “Nine hundred years of life, and I still can’t manage to cook a steak.”

********

It was so close. 

The human girl just about managed to say it.

That damned wish. 

Give it time, the Toymaker thought to himself. 

And time was all he had. 

Chapter Text

"But her friend is nowhere to be seen 

Now she walks through her sunken dream 

To the seat with the clearest view 

And she's hooked to the silver screen"

- David Bowie, “Life on Mars”

********

The air was damp and cold. Rose wrapped her navy cardigan tighter around her body, a shield from the night wind. The reflection of bright white headlights blinded her vision every few minutes. Each time, she hoped Mia’s car would be the source, but it never was. She checked her watch. It was late, too late. 

Earlier, the Doctor had volunteered to stay up with her, but she politely declined. 

“Please, rest.” Rose pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You always forget that humans need to sleep. Inferior biology and all,” she joked, tongue poking out of her smile. 

“Rose Tyler,” he playfully scoffed. “There are many words I would use to describe humans. Inferior is not one of them.” 

It warmed her heart that he would even offer. He was a great husband, and an even greater father. The slow path was one she never expected to see the Doctor travel, but that was the miracle of the metacrisis. Even still, there were some battles she needed to face on her own. 

Now alone on the flat porch, she sighed, tilting her head back to glimpse the stars. Rose had suffered a double loss this evening. First, Mia had neglected to keep her promise about an early return. Second, any chance for a proper movie night had been eradicated. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a time machine now. 

For a long while, Rose had wondered how her husband could stay put. He was so used to sauntering across the universe, never staying in one place for long. But here, they had built something together, something to cultivate. It was small and unassuming, but perhaps that’s what they both needed. Rose had spent years in the field as a Torchwood agent, driven by the need to protect her new world. The Doctor hadn’t had a home since Gallifrey burned. 

As she gazed at the constellations above her, Rose wondered if her other Doctor had managed the same. What kind of life had he made for himself, off in her original universe? Sometimes, in those dreamy moments, she considered if it was one she would still want to share it with him. But those dreams had no place here. The door to that path had closed long ago, right when he left her on that beach. 

Taking one last look down the street, Rose accepted her defeat, her shoulders hunching down. She walked back inside, closing the front door behind her. On the family room table sat two bags from the local chippy. The contents had long grown cold. Next to them sat Rose’s father’s old DVD case. She usually picked out a film with Mia. However, with her daughter nowhere to be seen, the case had sat untouched throughout the evening. 

It would be wise to go to bed now. Rose had become an early riser, a far cry from her teenage days. And yet, a tug, deep in her gut, pulled at her. She felt the urge to watch something, but she wasn’t quite sure what yet. 

Rose turned her head to look at the clock. It was almost midnight. She barely stayed up to eleven if she could help it. But that tug, how it persisted. It was as if a string connected her to some unseen force, pulling the strings. 

Oh, what the hell, Rose thought. She was already awake. 

Rose knelt down by the table and began flipping through the pages. With classics, sleeper hits, Christmas specials, she wasn’t short on choices. But something shifted in the air as she turned the next crease, the last page. A single DVD rested in the center, pressed against the fabric backing of the case and the plastic cover. 

Rose could have sworn this page was empty before. 

She shook her head, forcing herself out of a daze. Plucking the DVD out, Rose glanced at the information printed on it. 

Labyrinth, directed by Jim Hensen, starring David Bowie and Jennifer Connelly. It was released in 1986. Rose smiled at that, recognizing her birth year. This film was as old as her, and far from unfamiliar.  When she was a child, she used to watch it all the time. Her mother Jackie had to near peel her off the screen when it was on. 

Magic, mischief, and a young girl tempted by her dreams. No wonder she loved it so much. That was the kind of life Rose was destined for. 

Rose slid the film out of the case. She walked over to the television and pushed the DVD into the player. As soon as she heard the system warm up, Rose sat down on the couch and settled in. A soothing synth melody played out of the speakers. The screen burst to life with the starter menu. Pressing play, Rose leaned back against the cushions, comforted by the soft leather.

It didn't take long for Rose to sink into the story. As a mother, she found herself more unsettled by the concept than she was in childhood. A powerful villain steals away an innocent baby, only to trap it in the center of a strange, sprawling maze. That would be a rather horrific reality to endure. She had a lot more empathy for Sarah, the protagonist. Although Sarah was the one who wished her baby brother away, the girl never intended any harm. Rose supposed that was the consequence of a dream. There are sometimes forces out in the universe capable of making them real. 

Rose understood that more than most. 

Almost on cue, she heard the jangle of keys at the front door. Mia was back. Rose’s slightly fastened heartbeat slowed. Her daughter was safe, home at last. She paused the movie, the screen frozen with the imposing shadow of the Goblin King. Rose wasn’t quite sure why the image made her shiver. 

“Hello Mia,” said Rose, standing up to greet her daughter. She walked over to Mia and attempted to embrace her, only to be met with stiff arms and a resistant body. 

“Not in the mood, mum,” said Mia, with far more attitude than appropriate. She took a few steps back, getting out of her mother’s hold. 

Rose swallowed the brief flash of irritation that ran through her. She didn’t feel like starting a fight, even if Mia was late. It was best if she tried another strategy for now. “Come on, don’t be like that,” she said, as softly as she could. “I’m just happy to see you, that’s all.” 

Mia crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to yell at me for being late? You’re not mad?” She was looking anywhere but Rose’s eyes, triggering some maternal instincts.  

Rose sighed. “I’m a bit disappointed, especially since you didn’t call to let me know. Fortunately for you, I don't feel like lecturing tonight.” She moved to rub the sides of Mia’s arms. It was as comforting a gesture as she could offer. “I just started our movie. Only ten minutes in.” Rose gestured toward the table in front of the television. “Barely touched the chips too.” 

“It’s fine,” mumbled Mia. “I don’t feel like it.”

She smiled, touching Mia’s shoulder gently. “Well, that’s alright. How was dinner?” Rose was eager to see how it went. To learn any detail about Mia’s busy social life was a rarity, considering how closed off she could be. 

“Not great,” Mia mumbled, low enough that Rose almost missed it. 

Rose’s heart softened a little, hearing her daughter’s disappointment. “I’m sorry darling,” she said. “Want to talk about it?”

Mia shrugged Rose’s hand off her shoulders. The loss of contact stung, a rejection Rose wasn’t prepared for. “If I did,” Mia said, suddenly meeting her mother’s gaze, “it wouldn’t be with you.” 

Rose narrowed her brow. “Mia, no need to be rude,” she said, her tone growing stern. “You shouldn’t talk to me like that.” 

Mia took a deep breath. “Mum, don’t start.”

“Well if you didn’t want me to start, then you should have come back earlier,” Rose stressed, pointing toward the clock. 

“I lost track of time. It’s not my fault!” Mia suddenly raised her voice, and with that, Rose’s patience broke. 

“Mia Tyler, of course, it’s your fault,” she said, curling her lips. “Being late is bad enough, but at least take some responsibility.” 

Mia groaned. “Ugh, why are you always like this? Dad doesn’t get mad at shit like this,” she said, bitterly. 

“Watch your language.” Rose raised her voice. She was losing her temper fast. “Don’t compare me to your father. That is uncalled for. You’re my daughter, so I was worried,” she said, pinching her brow. Her head ached “Do you know how it feels to have your child running off to god knows where?”

“Hah,” said Mia, putting a hand on her hip. She smiled smugly at Rose, a show of arrogant, teenage confidence. “How should I know? Maybe I’ll ask Gran.” 

Rose’s heart stilled. “Excuse me?”

“You’re one to bloody talk about me running off,” Mia raved. “Didn’t you abandon Gran for a whole year so you could travel? At least I told you I was going to Karin’s.” 

“Well, unlike you this evening, that actually wasn’t my fault,” Rose huffed. The comment was perhaps a smudge too petty, but she was at her limit. 

“Oh sure,” Mia falsely agreed. “It was Dad’s. Oh, no wait,” she paused, a concerning gleam in her eye appearing, “That was the other Doctor. The one that left you.” She smirked, knowing full well how cruel those words were, and delighting in the small power they gave her. 

Her daughter’s blow hit hard, however true the sentence was. That story had been shared in confidence with Mia, as a way to explain the full extent of Rose’s relationship with the Doctor, both Doctors. The fact that its bittersweet conclusion was now being used against Rose, crossed a strictly drawn line. Her chest heaved. “That was a very harsh thing to say.” 

“I can see why he did,” said Mia, digging the knife deeper, “seeing how mad you drive me. It’s a shame I’ve never met him. I bet he would agree.” 

For a brief moment, the world around Rose froze, as if on pause. Her life with the Doctor flashed before her eyes. All the pain, all the glory, and all the lost opportunity to truly say goodbye to the one she first fell in love with. 

To this day, Rose is unsure of why she said the following words to her daughter, but if she didn’t, then this would be a far different tale. 

“I wish I had another chance, a chance to speak with him,” she said, that bizarre tug in her chest growing stronger. Rose spoke the words to Mia, but somehow, the wish was being shared with a different audience entirely. “At least then you might begin to understand. But he’s not here.” Rose suppressed the tears she felt building up. “You’re stuck with me.” 

Mia opened her mouth to retort, and Rose steeled herself for an onslaught of another tantrum. So, she waited for her daughter’s attack. 

She waited. 

And waited.

On the third beat of silence, Rose noticed how quiet the world had grown. She looked closer at Mia, only to find that her daughter was frozen in place. Her hands were raised but neglected to move any further. The strands of her long blonde hair waved up but clung to the air. However, the most chilling detail was her eyes, those beautiful blue eyes Rose knew so well. They were glossed over, near lifeless. 

Rose soon realized that it wasn’t just her daughter frozen, but the room around her. She looked up at the clock, the hands frozen at midnight. Twisting her body around, she recognized that whatever trap had been laid over her home, Rose was not bound to it. 

Any normal human would have been terrified. They would have thought themselves mental. But not Rose. Rose was a former Torchwood agent, trained in the field for incidents such as this. Even more than that, she had been a companion of the Doctor. She’d seen her fair share of cosmic wonders such as this. However, as a mother, her first duty was to ensure Mia’s safety. 

“Mia,” she whispered, putting a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. Her heart raced. “Mia, can you hear me?” She received no answer. Rose bit her lip, unnerved. 

A world on pause, like a scene in a film. The thought made Rose glance over at the television. It was stuck on that same frame of Labyrinth, the shadow of the Goblin King before his big reveal.

Only that shadow was growing. 

Rose didn’t know what she was looking at. The shadow seemed to leap off the screen and onto the floor of the flat. It expanded, soundlessly, at a rapid pace, until it suddenly stopped at a mere pace in front of her. Rose’s eyes widened, simultaneously horrified and amazed at the sight. 

But any semblance of amazement disappeared as soon as Rose heard a laugh. 

No, not a laugh, a giggle. 

A giggle that came from the shadow. 

“Rose Tyler, didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?” 

Something in the air shifted, and Rose knew that shadow was no longer a phantom. No, it came from a source. 

She slowly raised her vision off the floor to find a man standing before her. Dressed head to toe in black, shiny leather, an imposing reflection of that sinister Goblin King. Only it wasn’t. No, Rose knew that this man was something else entirely. Something far more powerful, and more importantly, real. 

The man’s eyes twinkled, and he smiled, baring impossibly bright white teeth, not unlike a shark’s. Although, Rose suspected he was far deadlier. He giggled again, the sound irritating Rose’s ears. “Although I too love the sight of myself,” he taunted, “it’s not me you should be keeping an eye on.”

Her heart sank into her chest. Rose turned her head, only to find Mia gone. 

Gone. 

Vanished. 

She suppressed the need to scream, the need to panic. But she would not, could not, give into that fear. Fear was not the way to get her daughter back. 

Instead, she looked the man dead in the eyes as she bid her question “Where is my daughter?” 

He waved a hand, unconcerned with her plight. “Ah, I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said in a vaguely Dutch accent. Rose could have sworn his voice was British before. Was he toying with her? “Why is this happening? That’s a more appropriate question.” 

Rose clenched her teeth, suppressing the full extent of her rage. Fine, she would play along. “Why is this happening then?” 

He shrugged, unimpressed. “Because you wished for it.”

Wish? Rose was confused. What wish does he …and then it hit her. 

She had ended her argument with Mia wishing for the Doctor, for the chance to speak with him. 

This was connected to him. This was probably some damned enemy of his crawling its way to the Time Lord through her. As much as that wish to see him again was true, she wouldn’t put Mia on the line for it. 

“Then I take it back,” she urged, leaning forward slightly. 

“What’s said is said,” the man sneered, hands on his hips. 

Rose’s eyes widened upon hearing his words. They were verbatim to the ones echoed in the film, by the Goblin King. Rose felt like an actress stumbling onto a scene she had no script for. Was she to play the role of the weeping girl, begging for the whereabouts of her daughter? Unsure of what else to say, Rose took her defense. “But that’s not what I meant,” she said, plainly. “That’s not what I meant at all. I wished to see the Doctor, not to have my daughter stolen.” 

“Oh you didn’t?” The man raised a brow, assessing her. “Dreams are fickle,” he tsked. “They can’t always play out exactly the way you want them to.”

Rose held back an insult. Whoever this man was, he was trying to get a rise out of her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Where is my daughter?” 

He smirked at that. “You know very well where she is.” 

“So what,” she scoffed,  “are you going to make me run a labyrinth? Is this some sick perversion of yours? Making people live out fantasy films for your enjoyment?” 

Tilting his head in thought, the man didn’t deny her accusation. “Fantasy, such a funny thing,” he said. “You humans want so desperately to escape your reality that you make up stories. Little things like goblins and fairies that can distract you from the truth.” 

Rose didn’t like how this conversation was going. “And what is that?” 

“You needn’t imagine creatures like that. I can assure you,” he smiled, straightening his posture, “we are not a fantasy at all.” 

Her throat bobbed. “Well then, what are you exactly?” 

The man looked pleased that she asked. He bowed deeply, with the grace of a king, “I am the Toymaker, and I am seeking players for my game.” 

“How thoughtful of you to pick me,” Rose said, sarcastically. “I’m guessing the prize is my daughter then.” 

“Of a sort,” he admitted. The Toymaker rose back to full height. His eyes were dazzlingly cruel. 

“Best we get started then,” she spat, clenching her fists. “Wouldn’t want you to get bored.” 

The Toymaker gasped theatrically. “Rose, how can we start when you haven’t even met your teammate?” 

“Then bloody well show me then!” She was done with pleasantries. Her maternal claws had come out. “Otherwise, give her back to me right now, or I will gut you where you stand,” Rose said, her stare murderous. 

The Toymaker yawned, covering his mouth with both hands. “Oh, how violent. My poor little heart can’t take it,” he said, tapping his chest. “What a terrifying beast motherhood has you.”

Her heart sped up, nervous that she may have provoked him too far. “Then please,” said Rose, switching tactics. “My daughter has nothing to do with this. Whatever you want, I can give it to you.” For Mia, she would walk the ends of the Earth. “I don’t have a damn clue what that would be, but I’ll find a way to get it.” 

“Bah, you’re so dull,” he said, blowing a raspberry, like a child. “This isn’t about what I want. Not at all! This is about what you want.” The Toymaker flicked his wrist, and there appeared a small crystal orb. 

“Now look, if you turn it this way,” he claimed as the orb danced along his palm, then rolling to his other hand, “it can show you your dreams.” In invitation, the Toymaker held out the orb toward her. “Would you like to see?” 

Rose shook her head. “I’m not falling for that. Didn’t bode so well for the girl in the movie.” 

“She won in the end, didn’t she?” The orb shimmered in the Toymaker’s hand. “And besides, you’re the one who made the wish in the first place.” 

She froze as she put the pieces together. The Doctor. This was all about the Doctor. Not her husband, but the one that left her behind. Rose scrunched her face. “Well, that can never happen. If you’re trying to get to him through me, I’m afraid you are out of luck.” For once, the devastation of that truth made her more confident. “The walls between worlds are sealed off. Forever,” she said, stressing the last word. 

“My dear girl,” he said. Rose nearly flinched at that last word. It had been a long while since someone had called her that. “For beings like me, that is never true.”

The Toymaker tossed the orb in the air, and it shattered into a blazing light, as vivid as the sun. Rose was powerless to move, to do anything as the brightness enveloped her. She managed to take one last breath before the world around her collapsed. 

Chapter Text

“And I will sing

Waiting for the gift of sound and vision

Drifting into my solitude

Over my head”

- David Bowie, “Sound and Vision”

******** 

As the Doctor stood outside, staring at the night sky, he felt a breeze graze the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, grateful for the cool air amid a hot summer night. The wind carried with it the faint smell of salt.

Too much salt. 

The Doctor snapped his eyes open. He licked his finger and put it up against the breeze. Promptly, he tapped that finger on the edge of his tongue, to taste the chemical compounds at play. “Ocean air,” he analyzed. 

The Doctor was nowhere near the sea.

“Rose!” He yelled, trying to get her attention. It was best he kept an eye on her as he figured this out. The Doctor wasn’t quite sure what was happening. That was exactly why he would not let Rose out of his sight. “Come outside!” 

In a few painfully anxious moments, Rose Noble opened the door. She poked her head out. “Yes, Doctor?” 

He scrunched his nose. “Do you smell that?” 

She furrowed her brow, confused. “Smell what?” 

The Doctor took a step forward to get closer to her, only for his foot to submerge in water. He looked down to find himself standing in a shallow pool, resting right above his ankle. The ground beneath his foot was soft, almost like sand. He knelt down to scoop it up, letting the grains run through his fingers. This was bad, very bad. 

The Doctor raised his gaze, only to find a small crystal ball floating aimlessly in the air. He stood up slowly, the ball rising in tune with his eyeline. It shimmered, emanated by an unknown light source. 

“What the hell is that?” asked Rose, leaving the safety of the shed to walk towards the Doctor. 

He quickly raised a hand to stop her. “Wait!” He warned, stalling her movement. “Stay back.” 

The ball started spinning, growing bigger as it did so. Panic built in the Doctor’s chest, and before he could even make a move to stop it, the ball exploded into a pit of blackness. The Doctor heard a faint gasp of Rose before his vision was overwhelmed by darkness. Then, the floor opened up beneath him, and he sunk, swallowed by the great depths below.  

******** 

The Doctor was floating. He choked as water filled his lungs. The smell of salt burned his nostrils. He was in some sort of ocean; an endless, unwelcoming ocean. He looked up to see just how deeply he was submerged. Luckily, he could spy the surface edge. With a few kicks, the Doctor swam up to the surface, gasping for air once he broke through. Nothing but a black, starless sky lay on the horizon. He was utterly alone. 

“Rose!” He screamed, wading forward. The water restrained his movements. The Doctor had heard his niece gasp earlier. She had to have been caught in whatever trap bound him. 

“Doctor!” He heard, the voice coming from everywhere, and nowhere at the same time. “Doctor, where are you?!”

He shifted his gaze wildly around. She was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, the Doctor felt a hard surface beneath his feet, and he steadied himself. The water that engulfed him slowly lowered past his neck, down to his navel, and then below his feet, as if it were being absorbed by the floor itself. He patted down his clothes, only to find them completely dry. Whatever had brought him here was something not of this world. 

Confused as he was, the Doctor was overcome with a surge of protectiveness for his niece. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the area. Nothing much was picked up from the readings, just a faint sign that life was out there. But he didn’t need the sonic to understand that whatever being had caused this, was a greatly powerful one indeed. 

Reality had shifted around him. New matter had emerged out of nothing. This wasn’t an illusion. The Doctor had been brought to some strange, unknown realm. He’d only encountered a few foes capable of doing so. 

A faint laugh, no, giggle, echoed in his ears. A chill ran down the Doctor’s spine. 

“No,” he whispered, “oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

The Doctor stiffened. He recognized that voice, that frighteningly familiar voice. 

Before, when the Doctor had defeated the Toymaker, he wasn’t alone. He had played a game of catch with his other self post bi-generation. Not only that, but his friends were supporting him on the sidelines. For god’s sake, half of UNIT’s forces were waiting in the wings. But no one else was here now. Just him, the Toymaker, and the murky black sea. But the Doctor was never one to back down. 

He turned to his foe if only to give the Toymaker a deadly glare. “Whatever game you’re playing, stop it.” 

“How nice it is to see you, Doctor,” said the Toymaker, in that faux German accent of his. He was decked head to toe in black leather, posing like some arrogant rock star. “Did you enjoy your swim?” 

“You shouldn’t be here,” said the Doctor, ignoring the question pointed at him. “You shouldn’t be able to do any of this. I banished you. I won the game and banished you from existence.” 

The Toymaker tsked. “Oh yah, that is true.” He took a few steps toward the Doctor, the shallow water rippling in his wake. “But you should know, Time Lord, that creatures like me have a funny way of returning,” he said, his accent morphing to British. 

The Doctor took a heavy breath. “Yeah, unfortunately, you do,” he admitted. The simple life had gone on far too long, far too smoothly. The Doctor should have known something like this would come for him. “What have you done with Rose? Was that a trick, the voice I heard, or do you actually have her? Where is she?” 

“The question you should really be asking, my dear Doctor, is where are you ?” The Toymaker flourished his hand. A blazing light blinded the Doctor’s eyes. He winced in reaction, blocking the sun with his hand. The sun. He heard the sound of waves crashing. Once his vision adjusted, the Doctor stop squinting. His eyes were greeted by the sight of a beach. 

He glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of his niece, to no avail. All the Doctor found was the Toymaker standing at the edge of the shoreline. Added to the being’s strange costume was a sheer cape, which flowed in tandem with the wind. 

“Do you like this place, Doctor? I figured you might be more comfortable somewhere more,” the Toymaker paused, “familiar.” 

The Doctor took account of his surroundings. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t identify where he was. Although dressed in his blue suit, coat and all, the air chilled him. He warmed the sides of his arms with his hands. 

“Oh come on. Can’t you at least dain a guess?” Asked the Toymaker, his smile sinister. 

“I don’t care. Tell me where my niece is now, and this can all end. You know the cost of a fight with me. Don’t start one,” the Doctor demanded, his voice laced with fury. 

“Oh, Doctor,” the Toymaker put a hand to his chest, as if stricken. “How could I? Not when you’re so fun to play with.” 

“Where is Rose?” The Doctor practically screamed it. 

The Toymaker giggled again. Oh, how the Doctor hated that sound. In his laughing fit, the Toymaker nearly bent over backward, as if what the Doctor asked was the most hilarious joke ever told. 

“What’s so funny?” The Doctor narrowed his gaze. 

“Oh, it’s just,” the Toymaker started, but he kept laughing. He could hardly control himself. “You’re finally asking the right questions. But I’m afraid the Rose you mean is…disposed of at the moment.” His insinuating tone could frighten a legion of Sontarans away. “But you’re in luck! I have another one, maybe a better one, to offer you.” 

“I know life is just a game to you,” he spat at the Toymaker, “but Rose is family. I haven’t got much of that nowadays.” 

“Believe me,” the Toymaker said, gleefully, “Rose Noble is the last thing you’ll concern yourself with when you see what I have in store.” 

The Doctor held back a petty insult. That would be exactly what the Toymaker would want; an endless, petty debate. The Time Lord straightened his posture. He had enough. “Show me then,” he told the Toymaker. 

The Toymaker delighted in that response. “With pleasure.” He waved his hand, and there appeared a crystal ball, the same as the one that the Doctor had seen before. 

“What is that?” The Doctor dared to ask. 

“Your dreams,” the Toymaker smirked. He tossed the ball into the air, and it broke into what seemed like a hundred pieces. A blazing sparkle emerged from the center of the shatter, the outline of a figure slowly emerging, and expanding in size. From it, a body fell on the sand, a human body. They—or she—groaned as she hit the ground. Her back to the Doctor, she slowly pushed herself up, her blonde hair waving as she did so. 

Blonde hair. 

The Doctor froze, suddenly realizing what the Toymaker had meant earlier. 

As the woman turned to face him, his hearts nearly caved into his chest. And when she met his gaze, the Doctor was beholden to her brilliant brown eyes. He had dreamt about them far too often. As recognition dawned on her face, that lonely ache told him she felt the same. 

Chapter Text

"All my violence raining tears upon the sheets

I'm bewildered, for we're strangers when we meet"

- David Bowie, “Strangers When We Meet”

******** 

“Rose Tyler,” he whispered, his tone a mixture of shock and awe. 

Amid this terror, with his niece stolen away by the night itself, there was a beacon of hope. The Toymaker terrified him, kindling a savage voice that told the Doctor that he knew nothing about the workings of this universe. The last time they fought, the Doctor was literally torn in two. He couldn’t do that again. His mind and body weren’t strong enough for a second bi-generation. 

He had been prepared to face this challenge alone. Instead, he had been granted a cruel gift: the woman he loved. 

From the way she looked at him, the Doctor was certain that Rose had endured a great deal of terror herself. She was being toyed with by this cosmic madman. As Rose looked at the Doctor now, he couldn't help but wonder: did she think he was the metacrisis? They shared the same face, after all. Imagine that, he thought, to be the one to stay with her. The one who made his love clear. 

That thought soon disappeared. 

“You’re him, aren’t you?” She observed more than asked. Her eyes shone with disbelief. “You’re the Doctor I wished for.” 

He could only smile softly at that. “Hello again,” he said, voice almost hoarse. 

“Hello,” Rose said in return, trembling. Whether that was out of fear, or an effect of the cold, the Doctor wasn’t sure. She was in pain, that’s all he could see, and the Toymaker was the cause. For that alone, there was hell to be paid. 

Rose stared at him for a few seconds, but she turned her eyes toward the Toymaker. “Is this really him, or another one of your games?”

“All of this is a game,” he happily announced, “but this is the Time Lord you wanted.” The Toymaker paused, then chuckled, like he remembered something. “Give or take a few regenerations.” 

Rose surveyed the Doctor’s form, gleaning the details of his face, body, and attire. “You regenerated?” She asked, perplexed. 

“Yes,” the Doctor said, lips tight. “Four times since you.” Technically five, if he counted the bi-generation. He hoped it wasn’t a disappointment, that Rose wasn’t seeing the exact version of the Doctor she was familiar with. Then again, that idea was a bit ridiculous. His fourteenth body is nearly identical to his tenth. The only difference was an appearance in age. 

“You regenerated, into the same body you had before? That’s,” Rose struggled to find the words, “impossible. You said it was impossible to change back.” 

“I thought it was,” he said, his voice indistinct, “but I was wrong.” There was so much he had learned about himself in their years apart, and yet, the Doctor wasn’t quite sure what he was anymore. He wasn’t even genetically Gallifreyen. No, he was the Timeless Child, an otherworldly being from some far-off place; a home and people unknown to him. But he couldn’t tell Rose all that, not now. They didn't have the time. 

The Doctor suppressed his emotions and turned to the Toymaker. “Where are we exactly?”

The Toymaker flexed his hand, one of those crystal balls appearing again. This time, it seemed the orb was summoned for nothing but the man’s amusement, as he twisted it to the left and right absentmindedly. “Look closely at your human,” he said, nodding his head toward Rose, “and you might find the answers you seek.” 

And the Doctor did, daring to solve whatever puzzle the Toymaker dragged his friend into. He studied her form. Rose stood at full height on the beach, a warrior’s stance, ready to fight if necessary. She was older, perhaps in her late thirties to early forties, yet that youthful fire was still burning out of her. The Doctor had changed, and so had she, but he was glad that some things would never would. But then, the Doctor dared to look at her closer, look into those beautiful brown eyes that haunted him. The breeze flowed against her hair as he spotted the tears she was keeping at bay. The image was painfully familiar. Only through this vision of Rose, did the Doctor realize where they were. 

“This is Bad Wolf Bay,” said Rose, her thoughts working in tandem with his. 

“I believe so,” he quietly agreed. 

He had been here two times before. First, as a hologram, burning up a sun to say goodbye. Second, as a Time Lord emerged from war, split into halves as a metacrisis. But that metacrisis stayed, or rather, could stay. The Doctor retreated into the TARDIS, off into that great unknown of the vortex. It was his nature. 

Or at least, it was until the bi-generation. How could he explain that Rose now? In her timeline, he had abandoned her on these shores more than a decade ago. For him, it had been far, far longer. The Doctor finally walked the slow path but as Donna Noble’s friend and brother; as uncle to Rose Noble. It was the same life he could have had with Rose. And yet…it wasn’t. 

For all his choices, the Doctor was still a Time Lord. He had a near-immortal body.  Rose was human, and that would never change. 

“Considering the circumstances, I’m being rather considerate. The two of you think about this place quite frequently,” said the Toymaker, boasting his invasive hold on their memories. He opened his arms out to his surroundings. “Bad Wolf Bay, what a delicious environment. I can practically taste the collapsing walls.” 

The Doctor was almost impressed that the creature didn’t lick his lips as a further taunt. “You never cease to aggravate me, Toymaker.” The leather-clad man only smiled in response. 

“You’ve made your point, then,” declared Rose, eyes locked on her enemy. “You brought the Doctor and me together. But the real fun begins now, right?” Her gaze narrowed.

The Toymaker winked at her, then glanced over at the Doctor. “Clever girl, this one is. I can see why you want her so badly. She would make an entertaining pet.” 

The Doctor leered, an internal storm thundering at the disrespect thrown toward Rose. However, before he could open his mouth to retort, a wave of nausea overtook him. The Doctor keeled over, grasping his head as it pounded, all while resisting the urge to spill his guts. If the groan he heard from across him was any indication, Rose was going through the same pain. 

The sea breeze intensified, swarming around them. The Doctor had the strange sensation that he was floating, but his feet remained tethered to the ground. He wanted to move closer to Rose as if he could shield her from this awful feeling. Yet, he remained powerless. When the Toymaker is in control, the world can turn upside down. 

After a few excruciating moments, the wind subsided. The pounding in the Doctor’s head ceased, and he slowly unclasped his hands from his skull. Looking up, he found that Bad Wolf Bay was gone. Instead, the group was standing atop a rocky overlook. The sky was a burnt orange, a color that was harrowingly reminiscent of a Gallifreyan sunrise. They were surrounded by barren trees. The wind was humid and pungent with an undefinable smell. And yet, those details paled in comparison to what lay beyond the overlook. 

It was a labyrinth. High stone walls marked its borders, but the sprawling twists and turns seemed to stretch out endlessly. If the Doctor squinted, he could almost pick out small openings, clearings that seemed to have small figures dancing within. But for all those traces of life, the maze appeared desolate, uncared for by whatever being created it. Far beyond where they stood, in the center, was a tall castle. It was barely a speck on the horizon, but the Doctor could feel a robust sense of power emanating from the structure. 

The Toymaker pointed his leather-bound finger towards it. “There lies the Goblin City. In my palace of wonders,” he gloated, “you can find the girls.” Snapping, the Toymaker summoned a large grandfather clock on the hill. The clock face displayed thirteen hours, instead of the standard twelve. “You have thirteen hours to solve the labyrinth, or else the girls belong to me.” 

“The girls?” The Doctor probed, glancing over at Rose. Her face betrayed her. 

“He has my daughter,” Rose said, shakily. 

The Doctor’s hearts nearly skipped a beat. Daughter. Rose had a daughter. From the way she initially avoided his gaze, he knew that it was also the daughter of the metacrisis. 

Yet, Rose met his eyes to ask her question. “And you? Who did he steal from you?” 

A surge of guilt befell him. He had become so distracted with Rose Tyler’s arrival that he had subdued the fear he held for Rose Noble. “My niece,” he said, comprehending the gravity of such a declaration. The Doctor she knew didn’t do families. Her shocked reaction told him as much. 

“Ah, games are so much more fun when you care about the prizes, yah?” The Toymaker once again made himself the center of attention. 

“What do you even want with them?” Rose seethed, the air fraught with tension.

“Truthfully, they have little value,” insulted the Toymaker. “It’s what they signify that matters.” Rose took a step forward as if to give him one of those signature Tyler slaps, but the Doctor put a hand on her shoulder. She stilled and shot a glare at the Time Lord. 

“Don’t,” he whispered. Trying to fight the Toymaker would only make things worse. The only way to defeat this creature was to play its game. There was nothing else that could be done. The Doctor had no TARDIS, no awareness of this realm, and no other Doctor to aid him. But, he had Rose, and Rose was worth a thousand armies. While her shoulders tensed slightly at the contact, she slowly relaxed. The Doctor had the innate sense that she understood. 

Rose turned her head, surveying the landscape. She raised her brows. “It doesn’t look so far,” she said, her demeanor full of faux confidence, masking the deep worry she carried. 

Ever the original, the Toymaker giggled. “It’s further than you think,” he tsked. “Such a pity.” Then, the man took a step backward, and faded out of sight. 

The Doctor and Rose were left alone, standing on the overlook with that grandfather clock. For a moment, they beheld one another. Both of their expressions painted a complex range of emotions: fear, desolation, confusion, and perhaps most selfish of all, joy. There was a tinge of a smile on each of their faces. Despite the cards that two universes had stacked against them, the Time Lord and human were reunited. 

He could do it; tell her that he loved her. He could scream it like he should have all those years ago on that godforsaken beach. This was the chance he had wished for, even if it were grotesquely twisted. 

But then the clock started ticking, and the great game began. 

Chapter Text

“Turn and face the strange

Ch-ch-changes

There's gonna have to be a different man

Time may change me

But I can't trace time"

- David Bowie, “Changes”

********

The sounds of clock hands shifted. Time was already running out. She was here, at the labyrinth; the site of stolen babes and dreams. Some sinister force had taken her daughter, and the Doctor’s niece, and was forcing them to endure what the film’s protagonist, Sarah, did. As a child, Rose used to be envious of the teenage girl, for being able to go on a grand adventure. She wasn’t anymore. 

But, the Doctor, he was here, standing right beside her. He looked oh so similar to her husband, stubble and all. The resemblance was ghostly. And she was to run this labyrinth beside him? All these years of yearning, and this was her reward, their grand reunion. They had a hill, a ticking clock, and two missing girls. 

Rose was still struggling to process her emotions. The rage that had exploded during her fight with Mia had transformed into something new: the need for redemption. She had failed Mia, failed to protect her only child. That man in leathers may have swept her away, but Rose was the one who uttered the words that gave him the power to do so. 

What to say to the Doctor? It had been over a decade since she had seen him, but this was no time for catching up. She gulped, bracing herself to speak. “Doctor, I-”

“No need to explain, Rose,” he interrupted. The Doctor gave her a kind look, yet his eyes were so tired, so very tired. “We will get your daughter back. By any means. I swear it.” From the gravity in which he spoke, Rose was certain he would be true to that promise. 

“I didn’t know you had a niece,” Rose said, honestly. She knew a rundown on his life wasn’t the most appropriate, but she couldn’t help but ask. 

“She’s Donna Noble’s daughter. You, um,” he paused, zoning out for a brief moment. Rose suspected that was due to guilt. “You remember Donna right?” 

Rose nodded. “Course I do. She helped save our universes.” Donna Noble was a brilliant woman and a great friend to the Doctor. It wasn’t surprising that he would receive the honorary title of “uncle” to one of Donna’s children. Rose could only imagine the shame he now felt, for that child to be lost. 

“My niece...her name is Rose,” revealed the Doctor, his voice low. A heavy feeling ached in Rose's chest. To have an impact so great in Donna Noble’s life, that her child would bear Rose’s name, was an indescribable honor. She wasn't quite sure how to feel. The Doctor beheld Rose with an almost glassy look in his eyes. “What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Mia,” she said. “Mia Tyler.” 

The Doctor bowed his head in approval. Rose expected him to ask further questions about Mia, about the metacrisis, about what Rose’s life looked like now. Instead, he simply said: “After all this is done, if there’s any time at all,” he spoke slowly, “I’d love to meet her.” 

Rose’s eyes went teary. “Of course,” was all she managed to say in response. 

Biting his lip, the Doctor straightened his posture. “Best we head into that labyrinth then.” 

******** 

Despite the height of the overlook, their viewpoint of the labyrinth was rather limited. It was difficult to discern where exactly to start. There was no front door. As the two ventured down to find an entrance, Rose explained the Toymaker’s strange reenactment of the film Labyrinth. This entire charade was based around it, and she couldn’t fathom why exactly. In return, the Doctor gave Rose a short breakdown of the Toymaker; what he was capable of and what he was motivated by.

“The Toymaker is the living embodiment of a game.” The Doctor traversed forward, almost stumbling over a few loose rocks along the hillside. 

“So he likes playing God?” commented Rose. “That’s fine. He can still be beaten.” 

“No, you don’t understand,” the Doctor stressed. “ I’ve met far too many villains that think themselves a god. The Toymaker is one.” He scrunched his face, thinking hard. “There’s one thing that confuses me though.”

Rose raised out her arms to balance over a particularly steep edge. “What’s that?”

“How could he create all of this?” The Doctor gestured around wildly. “This is a whole world. Normally he’s only capable of pocket dimensions. Small places.” 

“I mean,” Rose thought carefully, “I did tell you this is a movie. Maybe he just borrowed from that?” 

“Perhaps,” he said, his tone uncertain, “but why this? Why Labyrinth?"

With all the thoughts swimming in her head, Rose struggled to find an answer to that. Luckily, she didn't have to give one quite yet. At last, the Doctor and Rose reached the bottom of that deceptively tall hill. The ground was sandy, not unlike the shores of Bad Wolf Bay. Rose dearly hoped to put that place behind her one day. Little bugs flew around in the air. She resisted the urge to swat them away. The walls to the labyrinth were only a few steps away. Truthfully, they weren’t that tall up close. 

The Doctor sighed. “I don’t suppose we can climb over?” 

Rose shook her head. “If only, but that would be too easy.” 

She scanned the perimeter, searching for some sign of clue or aid. That’s when she saw him, the goblin. 

The sight of him almost took Rose’s breath away. He was small, perhaps to the height of her waist. The goblin wore a plain shirt and pants, accessorized with a leather bandana and vest. At his side rested a small pouch of jewels. Rose vaguely remembered him from the film, but couldn’t fathom what his name was. Fat lot of good you are, she thought to herself. 

If the Toymaker truly had trapped them in Rose’s childhood film, then he did a damn good job bringing the creatures to life. In the real world, this goblin was a puppet. Here, he looked entirely real, from the pores on his skin to his eerily human movements. He could help them. Rose just knew he would. Even if he was an instrument of the Toymaker, that man had dutifully created the film’s events and environment so far. In Labyrinth, goblins of all kinds inhabited the maze. The creatures ranged from menace to friend, big to small, kind to sarcastic. Rose hoped her instincts were right. 

Unfortunately, this goblin was currently urinating in a small lily pond. 

“Oh that’s,” the Doctor mumbled, his face tinged with disgust, “that’s just not right.” 

Rose was inclined to agree with him, but this goblin was their key to finding a way in. She coughed to grab its attention. “Um, excuse me?” 

“Oh!” The goblin suddenly stood up straight, embarrassed to be caught in the act of relieving himself. “Excuse me,” it emphasized, considering his indecency. He shuffled abruptly, making himself presentable, and turned around to face the pair. 

“Hello,” waved the Doctor, wiggling his fingers. The Time Lord was always eager to make a new friend, public urination, and all. Rose was pleased to see that side of him hadn’t changed. She hoped it never would. 

The goblin assessed the pair, swapping his eyes back and forth between them, studying carefully. “Ah,” he muttered, “it’s you two.” He rolled his eyes, bending down to pick up what appeared to be a oversized, wooden turkey baster. 

“Oh,” said Rose, surprised by his statement. “Do you know us?”

“I saws ya up on the hill with his majesty,” replied the goblin, pointing up. His majesty. Was that what the Toymaker was? He was a shabby replacement for the original in Rose’s opinion. “You runners always start up there before bugging me.” He started walking away from the pair. 

The Doctor shot a look toward Rose, silently asking for her judgment. She shrugged, trusting him to take the lead. “Sir,” the Time Lord politely addressed the goblin, “my friend and I do have to get through this labyrinth.” He gestured toward the vine-covered walls. “Can you help us?”

The goblin ignored the Doctor’s question, electing to shuffle away from the pond and raise his stick in the air. Aiming toward a swarm of insects, he squeezed the end of the baster, and a squirting sound emitted. Rose could have sworn she heard a tiny yelp as the targeted bug fell to the ground. “Aha! Fifty-seven!” The small creature jumped for joy, pleased with his shot. 

Rose somewhat remembered this scene. If you searched closely enough, the bugs were actually beautiful fairies. However, their appearance was deceiving, being the nasty sort that bit you if you got near. Perhaps this goblin was just on pet control duty. She ought to treat him with respect in his place of work. 

“We’re sorry to interrupt,” she said, voice as sweet as she could manage. Rose stepped toward the goblin, tapping him on the shoulder. He paused, lowering his stick down slightly. “But, what my friend here meant to ask was, what’s your name?” She smiled kindly. 

“Hmph,” he huffed, “the name’s Hoggle. Who are you two?” 

The Doctor tilted his head in confusion. “Didn’t you recognize us a moment ago?” 

“Oh, I know who you are,” Hoggle shrugged, “I was just being polite, unlike some of you.” He shot a glare toward the Doctor but disregarded Rose. Hoggle stepped away again and shot his stick at another faerie. “Fifty-eight!” 

“Hoggle,” said Rose, trying to breach the peace, “do you know where the door to the labyrinth is?” 

“Oh, maybe,” Hoggle said, continuing his task. Another squirt sounded. “Fifty-nine!” 

The Doctor didn’t care much for the goblin’s garden duty, stepping in front of Hoggle to stall him. “Well, where is it then?” he beseeched. 

Hoggle stared blankly at the Time Lord. “Where’s what?” 

“The door,” the Doctor huffed. 

“What door?” Another faerie yelped as Hoggle shot at it. “Sixty! Woohoo!” 

The Doctor groaned, grinding his teeth. “It’s hopeless asking you anything,” he exhaled. Rose almost laughed watching the two interact. In all their travels, there were very few aliens and people that managed to get under the Doctor’s skin. Hoggle seemed to be breaking that record in droves. 

“Listen,” said Hoggle, finally putting down his stick. “I’m not hopeless if you ask the right questions.” He shuffled around the Time Lord, heading back to the lily pond.

The Doctor looked over at Rose, a hint of remorse in his eyes. She knew he didn’t mean to be harsh, but these were difficult circumstances. So, she took over. “Alright, Hoggle,” Rose said, following the goblin. She spread out her arms in plea. “How do we get into the labyrinth?”

Hoggle stood upright and faced Rose. “Ahhhhhhh,” he sounded, his expression pleased, “now that’s more like it.” The goblin raised his small, shrunken hand toward the walls. “You gets in there.” 

Rose and the Doctor followed Hoggle’s gesture, shocked to find ornate double doors suddenly amongst the walls. The pair gawked in awe. Creaking as an unknown force opened them, mist poured out from the maze. 

“That definitely wasn’t there before,” noted the Doctor. 

Hoggle cackled. “Maybe you just ain’t observant enough,” he said, prompting another one of the Doctor’s glares. If looks could kill, the goblin would be singing his prayers. 

Rose took a few tentative steps toward the entrance, the Doctor following suit. She had the urge to grab his hand for support but thought better of it. It was best to not make this more complicated than it already was.

“You’re uh,” Hoggle said hesitantly, “you’re both really going in there, are you?” He had asked the same thing to the young protagonist of the film. Rose figured if a teenager could do this, then she certainly could. Plus, Sarah had been alone. Rose, well, Rose had someone at her side. 

“Yes,” she said, her eyes slightly glazed as she echoed Sarah’s words, “I’m afraid we have to.” It seemed the script was coming a bit more naturally to her now. 

Rose spoke not a word more as she crossed the threshold, walking into the labyrinth. The walls within were damp, covered in great vines with small, white flowers growing on them. Sunrays revealed a faint trace of glitter. This place felt ancient, untamed. Rose turned her head left and right, assessing the paths before her. The walls seemed to stretch endlessly in each direction, not a turn or corner in sight. How long would they have to walk around the perimeter before they could even find a way further in? The Doctor seemed to be thinking the same questions as he followed her in. His rapid head shaking back and forth between both ends told her as much. 

“Cozy isn’t it?” Rose jumped at Hoggle's question. The Doctor just looked irritated. The goblin laughed at their reactions, the sound reminiscent of an old smoker’s cough. “Now, would you go left, or right?” he asked. 

The Doctor’s lips went tight, assessing the most practical way to go about things. “Unfortunately,” he said, admitting defeat, “both ways look the same. I’m not quite sure.”

Hoggle appeared unimpressed. “Hm, you’re not gonna get very far.” 

Rose decided to intervene before the Doctor took out his anger on the poor creature. “Aren’t you supposed to help us?” she asked. “You helped that girl in the film. Or at least, I think that’s what your character did.” 

Hoggle ogled at her like she just spoke complete and utter nonsense. “I ain’t know what any of that means.” 

“Guessing you don’t get much telly around here?” the Doctor observed.

The goblin continued to leer at both of them. “Like I said,” he said, shaking his head in annoyance, “you’re speaking gibberish.” 

“God help me,” Rose mumbled under her breath, tilting her head back.

The Time Lord scrutinized the goblin. “Any suggestions on where to start?” He sighed. “Never hurts to ask for directions.” 

“Me?” Hoggle blinked indifferently. “I wouldn’t go either way.” 

The Doctor’s face shifted to veiled annoyance. “Helpful.” 

“Doctor, no need to be rude,” said Rose, despite her urge to make a similar comment to the goblin. 

“Sorry,” the Doctor cringed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just, this place doesn’t make sense. It feels wrong.” Despite the general humidity, he shivered as a chilly breeze brushed over them. 

“Ya better let go of that sentiment if you wants to make it far,” said Hoggle, giving his best piece of advice yet. 

Rose peered at the little goblin. “What do you mean? Is this even a fair game?” 

It was a valid question, but he didn’t budge. “You know your problem?” Hoggle asked instead, pointing to both Rose and the Doctor. “It’s that you keep bugging me,” he paused for effect, “when all you have to do is talk to each other.” 

Rose tried her best not to make eye contact with the Time Lord. “You’re the local,” she said to Hoggle, trying to stay on topic. 

Hoggle shook his head in disapproval, smacking himself on the forehead. “Gah, just listen to yourself. You’re taking all this for granted. Even if you both make it to the center,” he said, voice almost sympathetic, “you’ll never get out again.”

The Doctor held his breath, likely biting back an insult. “Well, then, that’s our problem. So don’t you worry,” he said, his smile tight. “Thanks for the help, Hoggle.” The Time Lord meant it, he did. It just sounded ungrateful. Rose recognized the intricacies of his tones so well. They were the same as her husband’s. 

She was going to extend her own gratitude toward the goblin, but it seemed he had already turned his back on the pair. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Hoggle shouted over his shoulder. He walked through the double doors, and without a glance back, the entrance shut behind him. 

Rose and the Doctor were left alone, now at the mercy of the maze. 

Chapter Text

“Once there were mountains on mountains

And once there were sun birds to soar with

And once I could never be down

Got to keep searching and searching

And oh, what will I be believing

And who will connect me with love?”

- David Bowie, “Station to Station”

********

An eerie silence pervaded the labyrinth. It was as if Hoggle’s departure had sucked out all the air in the maze, leaving behind nothing but the whisper of a challenge, a dare to solve the puzzle. In both directions, the paths went on and on. Vines littered the walls and ground, the roots of unseen trees breaking through the dirt underneath. The Doctor hadn’t the faintest idea where to start. So, he looked to the closest expert. 

“Left or right?” he asked Rose, unsure of how else to put it. 

She scrunched her brow, an expression he’d seen time and time again on their travels. He had missed it. “Right,” she decided, but her tone was uncertain. The Doctor understood that she’d seen the film that the Toymaker was basing this whole degenerate adventure on. Yet, she’d made it clear that her memory was fuzzy. Plus, the Doctor wasn’t expecting their enemy to play fair. The Time Lord was certain a few…adjustments had been made. What were those adjustments? Well, they’d just have to wait and see. 

Bading Rose’s choice, the Doctor started to walk to the right. She followed. Side by side, the two ventured forward in silence, each unsure of what exactly to say to one another. 

It was strange. The Doctor had spent all those years reimagining their last conversation and imagining their reunion. Now that he found himself actually at the point of that reunion, he was at a loss for words. Here she was, as clever and brilliant and beautiful as the day he lost her, and he was silent. The Time Lord rarely found himself incapable of speaking. Usually, Donna couldn’t get him to shut up. Nonetheless, here he was, contributing to the labyrinth’s quiet. 

Ten minutes into their walk, the pair hadn’t found a single opening. No turns, no corners, and no sign of the end of their horizon. Just a narrow strip of wall on each side. On occasion, they would pass mossy, fungal bunches bundled up on the walls. Leering bright, blue eyes protruded from these clusters, turning in unison with Rose and the Doctor’s movements. A tightness built up in his chest when he saw them. The Doctor despised being watched. 

Perhaps that’s why Rose hadn’t broken the silence yet. The Doctor couldn’t help but keep peeking at her from the corner of his eye. She walked to his left, her hands wringing nervously. He was sure that the pain she must be experiencing was to lose a daughter like this. The Doctor loved Rose Noble as any close uncle would, but he’d still only known her for a year. Rose raised Mia. 

But the Doctor knew what it was like to lose a child. When a child was ripped from your arms, a part of your soul died with them. That was torture he wished upon no one, a grief he had locked so tight that sometimes his own mind forgot it. Moments like these, to see the agony on a mother’s face like Rose’s, were what brought those pains back into the light. 

So, he let the silence stay. It was one of the few things the pair could control about their situation. 

It took another five minutes of walking and three more mossy eye bunches before Rose made a hushed statement. “It just goes on and on, this path,” she said, her voice quiet. “I-I don’t know why, but I’m struggling to remember what happens from here.”

“What do you mean?” the Doctor said gently, trying not to sound too eager at the sign of her voice. 

“There’s bits and pieces of the story coming to me. I used to know this movie so well,” she stated grimly, “but it’s been decades.”

At least you’ve seen it, the Doctor wanted to say, but it made him feel oddly useless. So, he kept that thought to himself. Instead, the Time Lord said the next thing that came to mind. “Maybe this path doesn’t keep going on forever. We’re just taking it for granted that it does.” That’s how the Toymaker got you, by playing on your doubt. 

“Do you-,” she began to say, but hesitated, clenching her fist. 

The Doctor stopped walking, and so did she. “Do I?” 

“Do you mind if we stop for a moment? I need to think, see if I remember what to do from here.” She gave him a pleading look, and who was the Doctor to deny that?

So, the Time Lord slumped himself against a wall, sliding down to take a seat. In all earnestness, he needed a breather himself. Rose leaned against the wall opposite, deep in thought. The Doctor once again found himself lost in the stillness, the lack of noise. He closed his eyes, trying to strategize ways to defeat the Toymaker. Hoggle had been right. Even if the pair got to the center, there was no way that the Toymaker would go down without a fight. That’s not how these stories went. 

As the Doctor was deep in thought, the most unexpected thing happened. 

“‘‘Ello!” said a chipper, high-pitched voice. 

The Doctor’s head jerked up toward Rose, his eyes fixed on hers. “Did you say something?” 

Rose’s face was as puzzled as his. “No,” she said slowly, “but I heard that.” The two looked around but found that they were still alone. Not a goblin or pair of leather pants in sight. There was a beat of quiet, with the Time Lord and human focusing their ears. Then, the voice spoke again. 

“‘Scuse me,” it said, “over here.” 

Turning his head right, the Doctor found himself face-to-face with the source of the noise. His mouth gaped. 

Resting on one of the stone ledges in the wall, was a worm. It was no larger than the size of the Doctor’s thumb. With blue and beige skin, the small creature had spiky hair. Better yet, it wore a dainty red scarf. The image was so adorable that for a brief moment, the Doctor checked Rose’s reaction to confirm he hadn’t lost his mind entirely. From the stunned look on her face, the Doctor knew it was real. 

“Um,” the Doctor said, as articulately as he could manage, “did you say hello?” 

The worm shook its head. “No,” it replied, “I said ‘ello. But that’s close enough!” Its countenance was charming, with its brown eyes blinking eagerly at the Doctor. 

Rose leaned down to match the speaker’s eye level. “You’re a worm aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, that’s right!” It declared proudly. 

Hoggle had nearly driven the Doctor mad with his sarcasm, but this worm was far more accommodating. He could work with this. The Time Lord smiled at the creature, genuinely pleased by its company. “You don’t by chance know the way through this labyrinth, do you?” His hearts sped up, excited by the prospect of progress. 

But that hope soon died as the worm shook his head again. “Who? Me? Nah,” it answered truthfully, “I’m just a worm.” 

Rose was better at masking her disappointment than the Doctor was. “Oh,” she said, slightly frowning, “that’s too bad.” 

The worm shook his head in acknowledgment. It gestured toward a little hole in the wall behind him. “You two look stressed. Come inside and meet the missus.” 

The Doctor couldn’t help but smile. For as frustrating this labyrinth was, this worm was perfectly content. If he had more time, the Doctor might have taken up the proposal. Unfortunately, one precious hour had already been wasted arguing with Hoggle, and moving forward in a straight line. 

“Thank you,” the Doctor said, genuinely crestfallen. He wanted to learn about this creature and find out what made this maze tick. Alas, it wasn’t to be. “We have to solve this labyrinth. Problem is, there’s no turns or corners or anything.” 

“The path just keeps going on and on. It’s rather annoying actually,” Rose added. 

The worm jutted his head in surprise. “Really? You ain’t looking right then. It’s full of openings,” he said, eyes wide. “You’re just not seeing them.” 

The Doctor was rather taken aback. “I think I would have noticed by now if that were the case,” he said, perhaps a bit arrogantly. 

“Ahem,” Rose interrupted, shooting him a warning look, “could you help us then?” She directed the question toward the worm. “We can’t see any.” 

“There’s one just across there,” the worm moved his head to the wall opposite of his home. “Right in front of ya.” The Doctor glanced over but found only the same drab vines and stones. 

“I-I don’t see anything,” Rose said, her mind as muddled as the Doctor’s was. 

The worm sighed. “Come inside,” he offered, “have a nice cup of tea.”

Tea did sound lovely, but the Doctor was deathly curious as to what the worm meant. “That’s just a wall,” he said, defeated. “There’s no way through.” 

Chuckling warmly, the worm smiled. “Oh of course there is. You try walking through, you’ll see what I mean.”

The Doctor and Rose stood up, taking a few careful steps to the other side of the path. The Time Lord took the lead, but it wasn’t until he was near nose-to-nose with the wall that he looked back at the worm. “You sure?” He wasn’t too confident that banging his head against stone was a good idea. 

“Go on!” said the worm encouragingly. “Go on then!”

“It’s just a wall,” said Rose, befuddled. “There’s no way through.”

That silence returned, with the worm not immediately replying. “Things are not always what they seem in this place,” it said, plainly. 

That was perhaps the truest thing the Doctor had heard all day. He held out his arms in front of him, bracing for impact against the wall. However, where he expected to meet the force of stone, the Doctor suddenly found himself stepping forward. He turned around to find himself on a new path, through an opening at last. “Hah!” He yelped, grinning at Rose. 

She scoffed in amazement. “How in the hell does that work?”

“Optical illusion!” proclaimed the Doctor, stepping back and forth between the paths now, as if he were jumping across state or county lines like a little kid might. “Oh, I love optical illusions.” Eagerly, the Doctor turned left down the new path, wondering what other secrets he could discover. 

“Oi!” yelled the worm. “Hang on now.”

The Doctor leered back to where the worm and Rose were. She was standing there with a slightly bemused look on her face. “Oops,” he said, “sorry, got excited. But thank you, that was incredibly helpful. Don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier.”

“That’s fine,” said the worm, but his face appeared worried. “Just, don’t go that way.” The creature sternly gestured his head to the left, where the Doctor had sauntered down. “Never go that way.” His voice was grave and laced with warning, the tone entirely serious. 

“Oh,” replied the Doctor, feeling a bit silly for blindly heading down a path. He was thankful to have gotten a direction from a local. “Thank you.” 

Rose leaned back to the worm. “Seriously though,” she said. “Thank you for your help. You’re very kind.” 

The Doctor could have sworn he saw the worm blush, if that were physiologically possible. “‘Tis alright,” it said. “Best of luck to you both.” 

With a nod of her head, Rose stepped up and walked through the opening to the other path. She turned right, and the Doctor followed.

******** 

As the sound of the pairs’ footsteps faded into the distance, the worm deeply exhaled in relief. “Oh, if they had kept going down that way,” it said, peering to the left, “they would have gone straight down to that castle.” 

The Goblin City was terrifying, in its humble opinion. There was a bad energy that clung to it, especially today. The worm couldn’t quite place why, but something felt…different about it. Congratulating itself for being such a considerate tour guide, the worm slithered back inside its home for that cuppa. It hoped that the tea hadn’t grown cold. 

Chapter Text

“'Cause I'd rather stay here

With all the madmen

Then perish with the sad men roaming free

And I'd rather play here

With all the madmen

For I'm quite content they're all as sane as me”

- David Bowie, “All the Madmen”

******** 

The sky was shifting, its color lightening from the orange tinge of a sunrise to a light blue morning. Rose desperately wished she carried a watch. She was struggling to track how much time had passed since the clock started ticking. 

Rose swore it hadn’t been more than half an hour since the worm, but it felt like so much longer. Maybe that’s what happened when you made your way through a stone labyrinth, in near silence next to a man who once meant the world to you, and still meant the world to you. 

She had wished for another chance to be with the Doctor she first traveled the stars with, and it was being wasted on this Toymaker’s game. The most arduous part of all this wasn’t even the pain she felt every time she caught the Doctor secretly looking at her. No, it was how cumbersome their conversations were. Stilted body language and half-sentences were their main method of communication. In her dreams, she pictured that a reunion with the Time Lord would pick up right where they left off. They’d both jump into the swing of their days as best friends. Sadly, she could see that wasn’t quite possible, especially under these conditions. 

After learning the worm’s trick, the Doctor and Rose slowly adapted to the strange architecture of the labyrinth. They often found themselves pressing against walls to see if there were any hidden openings. Their wandering felt more purposeful as the walls shifted from dark, wet stone, into a lighter shade. The unkempt vines became less common, replaced by neatly trimmed branches and leaves decorating the walls, with the occasional birch tree sprinkled throughout. The pair were getting closer to the center, surely. 

And yet, that castle looked as far away as it had at the start. Rose’s stomach twisted at the thought of her daughter, alone and afraid. That same fear extended to the Doctor’s niece, Rose Noble. Although she had never met the girl, Rose hoped both children were safe, or as safe as they could be in this place. 

At moments like this, Rose longed for her husband, the man she trusted more than anyone. This Doctor…he was and wasn’t the one she knew. He had kept his familiar face, but Rose had the sense that she didn’t know him at all, not after all this time. The Doctor said he’d had four different faces before this one. How many companions had he had since her? How many worlds had he saved or burnt? And like a jealous schoolgirl, she wondered if he had fallen in love with someone else. 

But before she could ponder further on that, the Doctor let out a frustrated sigh. Rose stepped out of her daydream to notice what irked him: the two had stepped into another dead end. 

“This place,” complained the Doctor, kicking the wall in irritation. He ran his fingers through his hair, a contemplative look on his face. “A map would be brilliant right about now.” 

Rose felt just about as lost as he did, but there was one thought that had been poking at her mind. “Don’t you have your screwdriver? Can’t you scan this place or something?” Given the Doctor’s reaction, Rose realized how barmy that sounded. 

The Doctor frowned. “Nothing but stone and wood round here,” he said, taking the device out of his coat pocket, and then wiggling it for effect. “This thing is practically useless. That is unless I want to understand the molecular biology of a worm or that sad excuse of a gardener.” 

“His name was Hoggle,” Rose said, slightly put off by his attitude. “And sorry, that was a stupid question.” She looked down at her feet, her white shoes trodden with dirt. 

“I-you-um,” the Doctor stumbled, cringing, “that’s not what I meant.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” said Rose, shrugging it off as best she could. The feeling stung, but it was a bitter pill she could swallow. She didn’t feel like arguing with her only partner in this challenge. 

The Doctor looked like he wanted to say more, opening his mouth to do so. However, his eyes quickly widened, making Rose somewhat self-conscious. “What?” she said, making a face. “Is there another worm on my shoulder or something?” 

“No,” he said, shaking his head. The Doctor pointed behind her. “Look.” Rose turned around, her eyes widening as well once she took in the sight. 

It was a barn owl, a rather magnificent one at that. Long talons perched on the stone ledge of a wall, the owl’s gaze fixed on the Doctor and Rose. Its white feathers were a stark contrast to the dark leaves that shaded it, aiding its commanding presence. But that wasn’t the bird’s most compelling feature. No, that was its eyes: one brown, and one blue. Rose was in awe of the creature. To find such elegant beauty in a maze of confusion was astounding. 

“Oh wow,” said the Doctor, mesmerized. “Aren't you just the most gorgeous thing?” 

As she stared at the owl, something gnawed at the edges of Rose’s memory, but nothing significant surfaced. “You don’t suppose we can ask them to show us the way, do you?” Rose asked the Doctor, half joking. 

Before he could answer, the owl swiftly swooped open its wings. It tilted its head, eyes still fixated on the pair, then squawked. 

“Oh,” the Doctor raised his brows, smiling slightly as his grip on the sonic loosened. “I believe it’s saying hello.” The Time Lord raised his free hand in greeting. 

She was about to do the same when suddenly, the owl swept its wings and took flight. It swooped down, outstretched its sharp talons, and stole the Doctor’s sonic right out of his hand. “Oi!” he yelled, “give that back!” 

The bird soared above their heads, screeching, but kept a tight grip. Then, it turned a corner in the labyrinth, leaving nothing but a feather behind, which gently floated to the ground. “Well that’s just my luck,” the Doctor groaned, before promptly starting to run after the owl. 

“Doctor!” Rose called after him. 

“Follow that bird!” he yelled over his shoulder. 

This was just what they needed, a pretty distraction. However, seeing as she didn’t have much choice in the matter, Rose joined the pursuit, her feet breaking out into a sprint. 

******** 

As she and the Doctor twisted through the stone corridors, Rose was confounded that the owl always remained in sight. It was flying fast enough to be out of their reach, but not so much as to lose them entirely. 

“For God’s sake,” she huffed, wishing her cardio was as strong as her TARDIS days. “How fast can that damn thing fly?”

“Too fast!” Although the Doctor was in front of her, Rose could sense the wide grin on his face. He lived for the chase, and to be chased. But, to be entirely fair, so did Rose. 

The owl finally slowed as it turned another corner. Unexpectedly, it dropped the screwdriver, like the tool was nothing more than a common stick. Perching up on another stone ledge, the owl folded one wing back into itself, rubbing the side of its face against another. 

The Doctor knelt to pick up his Sonic, while Rose panted for breath. She placed her hands on her knees and bent over. Rose leered at the owl, who now sat perfectly content. “Happy are we?” she asked, still gasping for air. 

The owl squeaked in response, its mismatched eyes glittering. 

With the press of a few buttons, it seemed the sonic was in order, but the Doctor still tsked at the bird. “You’re lucky you didn’t damage this,” he said, pointing the screwdriver at their assailant. 

The owl straightened its posture and once again titled its head, assessing the pair. Then, it swept open its wings and flapped upwards into the bright, blue sky.

Rose squinted as the owl’s form faded into a little more than a speck on the horizon. “Odd bird,” she commented. 

“I’m just surprised it didn’t talk,” replied the Doctor, amused by the thief. He investigated their new surroundings. The owl had brought them to another dead end. “It certainly succeeded in getting us terribly lost, more so than we already were.” 

Rose exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We can’t catch a break, can we?”

“Nah,” he concurred, placing his sonic back in his pocket, “it’s not fair.”

“You’re right!” said a voice from behind them. “It’s not fair.” 

Startled, Rose and the Doctor turned around to find that what had previously been a dead end had now shifted into an open cloister. At the end stood two wooden doors, each guarded by fox-faxed creatures. In front of the left door, two red armored guards shared a shield. One stuck its head out from the top, standing, while the other’s head was peeking up from the bottom of the shield, its tiny legs poking out at the top. The same was true for the door on the right, except the guards’ armor and shield were blue. 

“This,” the Doctor stumbled, pointing toward them, “this was a dead end a second ago.” 

“No,” said the bottom blue guard, smirking, “that’s the dead end behind you.” Laughter broke out between the group. 

Rose looked back to find their entryway closed off, the stones having silently closed off their only chance of escape. The tightness in her chest snowballed into a fit of aggravation. “Gah,” she sounded, fists clenched. Rose was at her wits end with this place. “How the bloody hell are we supposed to get anywhere if the maze changes?!” 

The Doctor flexed his hand as if wanting to reach out and comfort her. Yet, Rose saw him draw back, his expression changing from concern to a matched irritation. The body language reminded her so much of her husband’s, with her Doctor often making the same moves during a shared fight with Mia. Her head spun, trying to remind herself that this Doctor, despite all appearances, was still a different man. She needed to do her best to separate them.

“Are you, um,” the Doctor started. 

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing him off a bit too rudely. There was a bit of sadness that shone in his eyes as he absorbed her tone. It wasn’t his fault that she was having these confusing emotions. How much longer would it last, this awkward back-and-forth? Rose breathed slowly, calming herself. “Look,” she said, staring down the red and blue guards, “what are we supposed to do here? Hm?”

“Well the only way out of here is to try one of these doors,” said the bottom red guard. 

His blue equivalent poked his head out to add: “One of these leads to the castle at the center of the labyrinth, and the other one leads to-”

“Certain death!” proudly interrupted the top blue guard, adding a drumming noise for effect. 

“Ooooooh,” the four guards groaned in unison, theatrically emphasizing the danger of this challenge. 

Rose was too frustrated to poke at her weakened memory of the film to remember the right answer. “Well, which one is which?” she asked. 

“Uh,” said the bottom blue, “we can’t tell you.”

“Oh come off it,” the Doctor ridiculed. “Why not?” 

The bottom guards whispered amongst each other, their tones confused. “Er, we don’t actually know,” said the left. 

“But they do!” said the right, looking up to the top of the shield. The top red and blue guards raised their heads, staring at one another. 

“Perfect, then we’ll ask you two,” the Doctor gestured toward them, putting on a charming smile. 

The top red guard shook his head. “No, you can’t ask us,” he said. “You can only ask one of us.” The Doctor’s smile dropped as the top right guard nodded to confirm. 

“Mhm, it’s in the rules,” said the top blue, ignoring the Doctor’s scrutinizing gaze to meet Rose instead. “I should warn you, one of us always tells the truth, and one of us always lies. That’s a rule too!” 

Rose scoffed, unamused. “The Toymaker could have at least given us instruction pamphlets.” 

“Things like him are always so cryptic,” agreed the Doctor.

The four guards ignored the pair’s statements, their faces sagging with boredom. Must be a shabby life, Rose thought, having to stand and recite rules all day. The top blue guard let go of his grip on the shield, his clawed fingers stretching out to the top right. “You should know, he always lies.” 

The top red guard gasped. “I do not! I tell the truth.” 

“Oh, what a lie.” Once again, the group fell into a unified laughing fit. 

Rose prepared herself to do some mental gymnastics to solve the riddle, but the Time Lord beside her only chuckled, finding this all too entertaining.  

“Come on, you’ll have to try harder than that.” The Doctor pointed at the top blue guard. “You’re the one who said the rules, so that means you’re telling the truth.” 

The top blue guard’s mouth gaped, too stunned to speak. “Erm-” 

“Yes, because, if you’re lying, then why would you be able to explain yourself?” the Doctor rationalized, a smug expression across his face. 

The top red guard tilted his head toward his blue partner. “Is that right?” 

“I don’t know,” the top blue answered honestly, shrugging. “I’ve never understood it.”

“So then,” the Doctor grinned, looking at the top blue, “does your door lead to the castle?” 

There was a prolonged moment of silence before the top blue relented, groaning. “Yes,” he said, his tone curt. 

Nothing in this labyrinth worked logically. These inhabitants were strangers to their own ways of life. Still, even if the riddle was solved, Rose had a strange sense that something would go wrong. “That felt too easy,” she said to the Doctor, “I’m not sure the Toymaker would make this that simple.” 

The Time Lord scrunched his lip. “Maybe so,” he said, his eyes wandering toward the dead end, “but this is our only option.” 

Rose couldn’t argue with that. “Alright then,” she said, waving her hand toward the blue guards. “move aside ‘cause we’re coming through.” 

The blue guards mumbled amongst themselves, ducking behind their shields to discuss. However, the conversation came to a close, and the pair slowly shuffled aside. Rose and the Doctor were free to open the path. 

“Hah,” celebrated the Doctor, taking a step forward. He pushed open the wooden door, revealing a long, dark hallway with a bright light at the end. “This is a piece of cake!” 

As the Doctor turned to share this victory with Rose, the floor opened out from under him, and he yelped as he fell into the depths below. 

“Doctor!” Rose screamed, darting forward, the four guards quickly forgotten. As she stood at the edge of the crevice, she stared down into darkness. “Doctor!” 

There was no response. 

And so, without a second of deliberation, Rose stepped over the gap, and let herself plummet into the pit. 

******** 

Rose was falling, or rather, she was sliding. Her arms were outstretched, making contact with rubbery substances that she presumed to be plants. However, as she flipped her head back and forth to make sense of them, she noticed that they weren’t plants at all. No, they were hands, and dozens of them at that. The dismembered hands were muted shades of dull gray and green, not unlike the color of rotting flesh. 

Worse, the hands were pushing and gripping her. They were alive, active, and aiding her descent. “Help!” she continued to yell, to no avail. Wherever the Doctor went, it must have been further down. 

Unexpectedly, Rose’s fall was stopped as the hands around her began to grip her arms, torso, and legs. “Stop it,” she said, hitting one of them off. It didn’t do much, because another hand soon took its place. “Help!” Rose wasn’t sure who she was asking for assistance at this point, it just felt like the right thing to do. 

To her alarm, a group of hands came together, forming the crude image of a face. “What do you mean help?” the hands voiced, moving the shape of its mouth. “We are helping.” 

Another face formed at her side. “We’re helping hands,” it laughed, a sound not unlike the Toymaker’s giggle. Rose shivered. 

The hands on her shoulders tightened. “You’re hurting,” she gasped, struggling to breathe. 

“Would you like us to let go?” asked a face, its voice raspy and disinterested. 

Rose found herself hurtling down as all the hands let her go. The sounds of their laughter echoed through the chasm. ‘No!” she screamed again, only to be stopped by the return of strong grips. 

“Come on then,” said one of the faces, “which way?” A stray hand pointed a finger up and down. “It’s a big decision. Which way would you want to go?”

A ray of light shone over her head, the bright sky teasing her. Rose could still have a shot at the castle if she made her way up and walked down that hall. But then, a pit fell in Rose’s stomach as she remembered the Doctor, the sounds of his scream ringing in her ears. 

“Down,” she answered hastily. 

“She chose down,” the hand face announced, its voice frighteningly low. Rose heard the others chuckle sinisterly. The hands immediately loosened their hold on her body, and she was left freefalling. As Rose plunged into darkness, her last thoughts were of Mia and the salty, bittersweet taste of beach air.

Chapter Text

“Look out my window, what do I see?

A crack in the sky and a hand reaching down to me

All the nightmares came today

And it looks as though they're here to stay”

- David Bowie, “Oh! You Pretty Things”

********

Drip. 

Drip. 

Drip. 

Rose Noble awoke to the pitter-patter of droplets on her brow. Her mind was hazy. She remembered a sea; a vast, cold sea. The sound of her uncle’s scream echoed through the water as she sank. She slowly opened her eyes, only to shut them tight when met with a harsh brightness. Rose was lying on the ground, cement hard against her back, and pieces of straw poking through her clothes. Her cream jumper was filthy, stained with dirt, and damp with what smelled like saltwater. Groaning, she steadily sat herself up. 

Once her eyes adjusted to the light, Rose peered around the damp room. Stone walls surrounded her, and not a door lay in sight. There were no windows either. How the room managed to remain so bright was lost on her. Regardless, Rose was trapped; trapped and alone. At least, she thought she was alone. But then, Rose heard the sniffling. She turned her head and saw a girl. In the corner of the room, huddled up with her knees tucked into her chest, sat a teenager with blonde hair and blue eyes. And she wasn’t sniffling, she was crying. 

Rose’s face softened. She could tell the girl was in distress, but with not the faintest idea where they were, that girl was her chance to figure out the answer. What would the Doctor do, Rose wondered, in a situation like this? She’d only done a couple of trips in the TARDIS with her uncle, but that man always looked comfortable in a place he knew nothing about. And despite how scared Rose felt herself, she could hear the voice of her mother urging her to do the right thing: take charge and help.

“Hey,” Rose whispered, “are you alright?” 

Ceasing her cries, the girl looked over her knees at Rose. “No,” she answered, lip quivering. She didn’t elaborate further, continuing to sob softly. 

“My name’s Rose. Rose Noble,” she offered. 

The girl snapped her head up. Rose couldn’t quite define the look in her eyes. “Your…your name is Rose?” 

“Yes.” Rose nodded, smiling slightly.

“My mum’s name is Rose,” replied the girl, wincing. She retreated back into her knees, her body shaking. 

Rose wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but she tried all the same. “What’s your name?” 

“Mia,” she answered, voice hoarse. “Mia Tyler.” 

“Tyler?” The room suddenly felt much, much smaller. The girl’s last name, it couldn’t be a coincidence. Rose’s breathing stunted as she put the pieces together. “Is your mother Rose Tyler?” 

“Yes,” affirmed Mia, her tone more assured. She tucked down her knees to get a better look at Rose. “Wha-what’s it to you?”

“I, well, I sort of got my name from her,” Rose said, her face slack. She could hardly believe it. What had felt like mere moments before, she and the Doctor were discussing that former companion of his. How he loved and lost her. And now here Rose Noble was, sitting in a cold, damp room with the woman’s daughter. But Rose Tyler…she was in a parallel universe. A chill ran down Rose’s spine. Whatever thing had taken them, was something mighty powerful indeed. 

“What do you mean you got your name from her?” Mia’s expression was fraught with confusion. “I’m sorry but, I’ve never heard of you.”

Rose held her breath, unsure how to proceed. “Well,” she said after a moment’s consideration, “I’m not sure how you could have, considering we’re from different universes.”

Mia stilled. “Did you just say different universes?” 

“That’s right,” said Rose, adjusting her legs to better face Mia. “It looks like you and I have a lot to talk about.” 

Face still stained with tears, Mia sat up a little straighter. “Yeah,” she said, biting her lip, “I think that’s a good idea.”

******** 

They were the same age, both fifteen. That made it a little easier to talk, or better yet, trust one another. Rose Noble had explained her story as best she could. She was the Doctor’s niece. Her mother was Donna Noble, a former companion, like Mia’s mother. She interned for UNIT, leveraging the knowledge she had leftover from the metacrisis. 

“No wonder you seem so calm,” said Mia, cringing a little. “You’ve got experience with all this stuff. Aliens and whatnot.”

Rose shrugged, frowning. “It’s not much really. Only just started. Plus, this is my first time getting properly kidnapped,” she said, attempting a joke. Based on Mia’s reaction, Rose didn’t think it landed. 

“Yeah well,” Mia said, her gaze downtrodden, “at least you’re not useless like me. You woke up and tried to figure out where we were. All I did was cry.” 

Mia had told her about the fight that she’d had with her mother. One moment she was arguing, and the next she was completely paralyzed. She couldn’t do anything as shadows swept over her, darkening her view. The noise of television static invaded her eyes. Then, she found herself in this room, with Rose sound asleep on the floor. It all happened so quickly that Mia struggled to even describe it.

More tears fell from Mia's eyes. “God, I’m so stupid.” 

“Hey,” Rose said, reaching out to touch Mia’s shoulders, “it’s alright. Please don’t feel bad.” 

“I should feel bad,” said Mia, sniffling again. “I might never see my mum again, and the last thing I said to her was just awful. So awful.” 

“Then if you want to make up for it,” Rose said, attempting a pep talk, “you can make sure to tell her that, ‘cause we’re getting out of here.” 

Mia’s lip pursed. “How? There isn’t even a door.” She gestured around the room. 

Rose took account of their jail again. It was positively medieval. All they were missing were some chains and a torture device. Mia was right though. There wasn’t much around them that could provide an escape. That is, there wasn’t until a ray of sunlight warmed her back. 

She glanced over to find a small window now sat across from them. “That,” Rose mumbled, “wasn’t there before right?”

“Definitely not,” said Mia, wary. 

Unsure of what else to do, Rose stood up and walked over to the other side of the room. Mia hastily followed like she was afraid the other girl would disappear if she got too far away. The window was small but provided an ample enough view. Their cell sat high above in a tower overlooking a city. Little townhomes decorated the square below. They were so small, that Rose supposed whoever inhabited them couldn’t have been much bigger themselves. Despite the commendable size of the citadel, not a soul walked the streets. Instead, silence reigned. However, it was what lay beyond the city that truly captured her attention.

“That,” Rose stuttered, “that looks like a l-”

“Labyrinth,” said a deep voice from behind them. 

The room grew instantly darker, overcome with the shadowy presence looming over their shoulders. Rose’s heartbeat quickened as Mia went completely still. “No,” the blonde girl whispered, “please not again.” A single tear ran down her cheek. 

Daring to look back, Rose saw the source of that gloom. It was a man clad in leather. He had a powerful aura about him, something not of this world, and yet so at home. The man twirled a crystal orb between his hands, passing it left and right in smooth motions. “Finally woken up, have we?” He giggled in amusement. “Now our end of the game can begin.”

This man, no, this thing, felt eerily familiar. “Game,” Rose said softly. As she uttered the word, it dawned on her just who she was dealing with. Although Rose had never met him face to face, her mother and the Doctor spoke of him often. “You're him. Aren't you?”

“Toymaker,” he interrupted, bowing. “Pleased to make your acquaintance Rose Noble. We meet at last”

Rose’s fear blossomed into full-out terror. This was a monster that tortured for amusement, someone who made half her world go mad with rage. She didn’t know what to do, what to say other than: “Please don’t hurt us.” Her breathing faltered like the air was being pulled from her lungs. 

“Oh, stop that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it. That is not part of the terms I made with your uncle and her mother.” The Toymaker pointed at Mia, who was doing her best to avoid his gaze. She stared at the ground, trembling. 

“Why are we here?” Rose asked, doing her best to mask the dread she felt. 

The Toymaker’s orb stilled in his left hand. He smiled widely, baring all his freakishly white, shining teeth. “Because it’s fun.”

“But why us?” Mia uttered, still focusing on the floor. She slowly raised her eyes to meet the Toymaker’s. “Where’s my mum?” 

“Your mother is playing a game,” he said, before glancing at Rose, “and so is your Doctor. You’re both the prize.”

“What’s the point of all this?” Rose blubbered, her mind reeling. She couldn’t make sense of why he’d care so much. “Is this just revenge?”

“Revenge, retribution…call it whatever you like,” the Toymaker shrugged. “Those are such small words for what I have in store.”

Mia’s throat bobbed. “What do we have to do with it though?”

“You’re both so very interesting,” appraised the Toymaker, as if they should feel flattered. “You,” he pointed at Mia, “are a daughter of the Doctor. A human version yes, but his daughter nonetheless.” Mia clenched her fists at her sides, not daring to make eye contact with the man.  “And you,” the Toymaker directed his finger toward Rose, “you were born out of the metacrisis. Part of the Doctor’s mind has lived inside you. Yes, if I win, you two will make quite the addition to my toy chest” 

“Are you quite finished?” Rose said, sternly. She sounded eerily like her mother. “The sound of your voice makes my ears bleed.” Maybe she should have thrown in a dumbo comment for good measure. 

“Aha! Like mother, like daughter,” he said, laughing. “Oh, Donna Noble, what a fun plaything she was.” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, a door appeared. The orb in his other hand disappeared, and the Toymaker walked toward it as the door magically opened. “Come along then. There’s only so much time.”

“No way in hell are we going anywhere with you,” declared Rose, her stance firm. 

“You don’t have a choice darling,” the Toymaker winked, beckoning a hand toward them. “Now come follow me, or else I’m perfectly content to just kill you.” 

“You don’t mean that,” she said, her throat dry. 

“Maybe, maybe not,” he said, shoulders dancing, “but do you want to take that risk?” 

“No,” answered Mia, to Rose’s surprise. “We’ll come with you.” The blonde girl straightened her posture, trying to garner some confidence. 

“How very obliging,” the Toymaker said, smiling widely. He turned his back on the pair, crossing the threshold of the door. “Much fun awaits.” 

The girls looked at each other, equally disturbed at what might await them beyond that door. Rose reached over and grabbed Mia’s hand. Mia squeezed it, grateful for the support. And so, seeing that they had no other option, the girls followed the Toymaker into the castle halls.

Chapter Text

“See these tears, so blue

An ageless heart that can never mend

These tears can never dry

A judgment made can never bend”

- David Bowie, “Cat People (Putting Out Fire)”

******** 

In his milieu of adventures, the Doctor had experienced his fair share of crises. He’d been tripped, shot at, accidentally married; all par for the course, really. If the cost of endless exploration was the occasional sprint, then the Doctor welcomed marathons with open arms. Sadly, there was one sensation he could never quite stomach: falling. 

As the Doctor plummeted through the floor, past whispering hands and whirling colors, he wanted nothing more than to be back safe on his TARDIS, sharing a nice cup of tea with Donna and Rose. Well, both Roses, that was. He should have taken that worm up on its offer.

After ages, the Doctor finally plopped on the firm, hard ground. He barely had time to adjust to his landing before something—or rather, someone— heavy fell on top of him. Rose Tyler yelped as her body crashed into his. The Doctor was left sprawled on the floor, heaving, as Rose herself panted for breath. 

“Ugh,” she groaned, “sorry.”

“It-it’s alright,” he stumbled, acutely aware of how close their bodies lay.  

The bright light that shone through the hole where they fell quickly disappeared. The room fell into complete darkness, and the cackling of helping hands ceased. The Doctor held his breath as Rose leaned down her head to lay on his chest. She pressed against him in a familiar comfort, her shoulders relaxing. The gesture was so intimate, so innate. For just a moment, the Doctor allowed himself to forget where he was, and just rest with her. 

The Doctor was transported back to that precious era when she traveled with him. The feeling of her hand in his, the warmth of her body in an embrace, or even the rare press of her lips against his brow, had healed his hearts. The loss of his people and homeworld left a gap in his soul. Back then, there was so much rage that infested him, so much unbridled fire. It still lingered, on occasion. The oncoming storm was forever dormant. He’d seen too much, felt too much, for it to be otherwise. But Rose Tyler, she was the first to help him recover, the first to remind him who he was. 

So much time had passed since then. He’d lived so many lives and fought in so many other wars. But it was people like Rose that kept him going, that helped ground him. When he lost her, he might as well have been thrown back into the trenches of the Time War. 

Their hours were running short. There wasn’t much time at all to rest. The Doctor knew that, but even he couldn’t afford to be entirely selfless at the time. No, for this brief period, he would allow himself peace. And really, that was what Rose Tyler made him feel: peace.

Rose sucked in a breath, muttering what sounded like a curse. She crawled off of the Doctor, the warmth from her body now exposed to the cold. “I,” she said, biting her lip, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

She thought she’d made him uncomfortable, as silly as that was. “Oh, it’s fine,” he said, gently. He pushed himself up, arms awkwardly twisted.

Rose nodded, her face barely visible in the dark. “You just,” she said, wincing as she did, “look so much like him, that’s all.”

The Doctor scrunched his brow but then relaxed it once he figured out what she meant. “Oh,” he mumbled, the image of his metacrisis surfacing. “Yes I…see how that might be confusing.”

The Doctor knew she didn’t mean it like that, but her words stung. The low part of him wanted to remind her that the metacrisis was a regenerated clone of his tenth body. If anything, Rose’s husband looked like him. But he could never say that, would never. After all, the Doctor hadn’t given her a choice about who she could be with, had he? 

“I’m sorry,” said Rose, her voice hushed. “That’s not fair of me to say.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Oh, no,” he replied. “If anyone here should be doing the apologizing, it’s me.”

There was a pause before Rose spoke. “What for?”

“For leaving you on that beach,” the Doctor’s lips tugged down. “That last time we saw each other, it…still gives me guilt.”

“You feel guilty?” Rose stretched out each word, piecing together the information. 

The Doctor felt an odd pressure in his chest. "'Course I do. For someone that means the world to me, you deserved a proper goodbye.” Means, not meant, the Doctor made sure to say. 

“That,” Rose said softly, “means a lot for you to say.” The Doctor heard the sound of dirt shuffling as she adjusted her seat. 

“It must have been hard,” the Doctor empathized, “being dropped back off in Pete’s World with another me. I didn’t give much of an explanation before I left. But when you,” the Doctor thought of that kiss Rose gave his metacrisis, and felt a pang of jealousy, “well, you know, I figured you would be better off without me.”

Rose exhaled, a whisp of her hair flying up with her breath. “It’s so like you to say that.”

The Doctor raised a brow. “To say what?”

“That I don’t need you,” she said, her eyes now faintly visible in the darkness. “My life, Doctor, it’s been a whirlwind, but it’s also been a whole lot better since you stepped into it.”

A warm, fuzzy feeling overcame him. He smiled, yet his shoulders remained rigid. “I would say the same about you.”

“You know,” Rose said, laughing lightly, “when I was younger, I used to think, ‘Who am I to be traveling with the likes of him? What did I do to deserve this? ’ A time lord from Gallifrey, exploring the stars with a shopgirl.” She sat up a little straighter, tracing her finger in the dirt back and forth absentmindedly. “But when I crossed all those universes to find you, when I married you, or well, him, that’s when I knew.”

The Doctor leaned forward, keen to listen. “Knew what?”

“It’s not about deserving. It never was. It was about you,” she said, looking at him closely, “and me, finding each other. You told me that I made you better, but you did the same for me. That’s what love does.”

Love. She said it with such ease. The Doctor envied her ability. “As long as you’re happy,” he said instead, “that’s all that matters. If one version of me could grow by your side, then that’s the best future I could have wished for.”

“He’s you,” she said, softly, “and you’re him.” Her eyes shone with that natural compassion he’d grown to long for. “I just didn’t fully understand at the time. Everything happened so quickly.”

“That it did,” he agreed, smiling kindly. They had found and lost each other on the same day. 

“I’m happy, Doctor,” said Rose, shifting to hold his gaze. “I really am.” 

The Doctor patiently crossed his hands in his lap. “And for that I’m glad. You deserve nothing less,” he emphasized. Then, he spotted it: the unease in her eyes.

“But…” she started to say but didn’t quite finish. 

His face slackened. “But what?”

“There’s so much I still miss.” She breathed deeply, like she was letting out some great secret. “Mickey, the Powell Estate, the TARDIS,” Rose listed off, pausing before she finished, “you.” She looked straight at him when she said that. 

“I-,” he muttered, slightly stunned. “I’ve missed you too.” The Doctor began to recall his conversation with his niece. “My life on Earth is great. I’ve got a family, a proper family.” Rose beamed when he said that, her expression an indication of just how deeply she wished for his own happiness. I’ve never been so happy in my life. That’s what he told Donna. He meant it, every word. But of course, the mind was a feeble thing, and loved to play around with the what-ifs. 

“Why is that, hm?” Rose asked, scratching the back of her head. “When you feel the best you ever have, but still want more?”

“I would say it’s human nature, but I’ve felt my fair share of that.” The Doctor grimaced, tilting his head. “One of life’s greatest mysteries, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Rose agreed, “right that is.” She stared at him, her body oddly tense.

Then, the most brilliant thing happened. Rose crawled forward and wrapped the Doctor in her arms, closing the gap between them. His whole body went loose with the unexpected contact. However, as she buried her face into his shoulder, he instinctively melted into the embrace. A Rose Tyler hug, what a beautiful thing to hold , he thought. The Doctor sighed, closing his eyes as his hand shifted up to graze the back of her head. 

“It’s good to see you Doctor,” she mumbled into him.

“And I you, Rose,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. He’d never cried in front of Rose before, not in his ninth or tenth body. But in this one, well, he felt much more deeply. Outside a metacrisis, it was the closest he’d ever get to a human, he supposed. So as a tear fell on Rose’s hair, he didn’t deign to brush it away. He was exhausted of hiding how he felt. Rose was here, so he would feel. Just maybe, he would say that fateful phrase. The moment felt right.

And yet, he still found himself holding back. Would it be fair to drop the declaration on her? Now? To pronounce his love when she was married? When they were still trapped in a labyrinth? Perhaps this was enough. This hug, these kind words. There were enough conflicting emotions between them already. So, he returned to that familiar disguise, the one he had perfectly mastered over millions of years: seeming content. 

The Doctor wasn’t sure how much longer they sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms. He was content to be there as long as he could. Once, she’d promised him forever. He was keen to hold her to that. 

But this was the labyrinth, and the labyrinth was a place of change. 

“Ahem,” coughed a disgruntled voice, “are you two done yet?”

Rose and the Doctor snapped their heads up toward the source. The sound of a match struck, and soon a candle was aflame. A small hand lifted up the light, revealing a face amidst the darkness. It was a goblin with a long, wrinkled nose, bulging eyes, and a familiar red cap. 

The Doctor blinked as recognition struck him. “Is that-”

“Hoggle?!” finished Rose. 

The goblin smirked. “Geez,” he said, his bangle of jewels shimmering under the fire, “and here I was thinking you two were goners.” 

Chapter Text

“It's only forever

It's not long at all

Lost and lonely

That's underground”

- David Bowie, “Underground”

********

Hoggle smirked at the pair, the flame lighting the twinkle in his eye. “Most people give up by now,” he cackled. “You’re a determined bunch.” The goblin set the candle to rest in the center of the pit. 

“It’s really you,” said Rose, hopeful. Maybe the goblin could help lead them out. He seemed friendly enough. A bit sarcastic, sure, but the best ones always were.

“What are you doing down here?” asked the Doctor, his gaze interrogative. Still wrapped around Rose’s waist, his arms tightened protectively. She tried not to overthink it. 

“Ah yes,” Hoggle shuffled toward the two, “I knew you both were gonna get into trouble as soon as I met ya.” Even at full height, the goblin was barely taller than Rose and the Doctor, who were both kneeling. “So, I’ve come to give you a hand.”

The Doctor raised a brow. “Just now? Why not earlier?” His grip around Rose relaxed, and she took the opportunity to move away. She pressed her hand against the dirt, and pushed herself up, shaking off the remnants. 

“I’ve got small legs,” said Hoggle, bluntly gesturing to them. “Hard to catch up with ya.”

“Suppose so,” the Doctor sighed, unimpressed. He stood with Rose. 

She peered around the room, and room was a kind word. It was more like a hole. Hoggle’s candlelight revealed how miniscule it truly was. Nothing but rock and dirt surrounded the trio. Even that lid above them seemed to have disappeared. 

“Oh, you’re looking around now, aren’t you?” Hoggle told the human, his voice amused. “I suppose you noticed there ain’t no doors. Only the hole.” He shook his head, staring at the ceiling in dismay. 

“I’ve been in plenty of places like this in my day,” said the Doctor, pulling out his screwdriver. It emitted a buzzing noise as he waved it back and forth. “There’s always a way out.” Rose knew scanning would prove fruitless, but her Time Lord was always a stubborn bloke. 

“This is an oubliette,” revealed Hoggle. “Labyrinth’s full of em.”

Rose tilted her head. “Oubliette?”

“It’s French,” answered the Doctor, lowering his screwdriver to rest at his side. “Means ‘to forget’.”

“More specifically, it’s a place you put people to forget about them,” said Hoggle, brushing off the Doctor with a wave. “Look, you two need to get out of here. And it just so happens that I know a shortcut out of the whole labyrinth from here.”

“Fat chance,” scoffed the Doctor, “not when we’ve come this far.”

“He’s right,” agreed Rose, brushing off her cardigan. “My daughter’s in the city. I’m going to find her.”

“Your daughter, right.” Hoggle’s volume went low. His eyes betrayed a trace of sympathy. “You have to know it gets a lot worse from here on in,” he told Rose. 

The Doctor crossed his arms, looking down at the goblin. “That doesn’t matter to us. We’re getting to the center.”

“Could use with a little help,” Rose proposed, having caught Hoggle’s face earlier. He wasn’t cruel, just cranky. The goblin had a heart. 

“Gah, what good would that do?” Hoggle laughed, sounding a bit nervous. “Besides, what’d be innit for me?”

The Doctor had taken to scanning the dirt again, useless as it proved. As Hoggle’s purse of gold and silver jewels shimmered in the orange candlelight, Rose was struck with an idea. “Wait,” she said, kneeling down to meet Hoggle’s eye level. “You like jewelry and shiny things, don’t you?”

Hoggle looked to the side, confused. “Er, what’s it to ya?” His hand grazed his pouch in defense. 

“I wish I had a necklace on me or something, but I don’t,” said Rose, patting herself down in demonstration. Then, she pointed at the Doctor’s screwdriver, buzzing freely. “You see that?”

As he gazed right to spot the sonic, Hoggle’s eyes shone greedily. “Quite pretty, that is,” he whispered to her. 

Alerted by the word pretty, the Doctor snapped his head in Hoggle’s direction. “What now?”

“Your wand,” Hoggle said, gesturing toward the sonic. “I would like to have something like that.”

The Doctor narrowed his gaze. “I should think not.”

Rose smiled. The seed had been planted. “Say what then, how about you help us through this labyrinth, and we’ll give you the wand?”

“It’s not a wand, Rose.” Baffled, the Doctor gaped at her. “This is my screwdriver.”

“Worth the cost of your niece?” Rose lifted both hands up and down, weighing the Doctor’s options. 

“I-um, well no,” the Doctor stuttered. He held the sonic close to his chest, like a child protecting its toy. “But it’s still important to me.”

“It’s perfect then!” exclaimed Hoggle, a wide grin on his face. “Trinkets are always better when someone else wants ‘em.”

Rose shot the Doctor a tried and true look, one that beckoned him to trust her. As he examined her expression, the twitch of his lips told her it was working. “Okay,” he said, “it’s a deal. But you have to take us through first.”

Hoggle batted a hand in dismissal. “Ah, I was gonna go that anyway, but giving me that would be a particularly nice gesture on your part.” The Doctor rolled his eyes as the goblin continued speaking. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You only need to take us as far as you can,” compromised Rose, standing up again. “If you can’t lead us to the city, we’ll figure out the rest on our own.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hoggle chuckled, moving away from the pair. He kicked his foot, shoving dirt off the floor to reveal a small, wooden door. Leaning down, the goblin picked it up and propped it up against the wall. 

“What’s that going to do?” asked the Doctor, skeptical. 

“Oh shut up, will ya?” Hoggle backtalked. The Time Lord snapped his mouth shut in response. 

Hoggle opened the door from the left, only for a barrage of brooms and buckets to fall out from it. They clicked and clanked as they tumbled over onto the floor, with a few hitting Hoggle on the way down. “Damn,” he cursed, “broom closet. Well, can’t be right all the time.” Hoggle then closed the door, and after waiting a few seconds, opened it from the other side. Light flooded the room, as the door revealed an exit. Rose couldn’t see much yet, but it looked like a stone hallway. 

“Now that’s…wizard,” the Doctor chuffed, borrowing a phrase from Donna. The way he said it sounded so similar to how her husband did, that Rose had to do a double take. After all, the metacrisis had adopted part of the woman’s personality. 

“This is it,” said Hoggle, once again ignoring the Time Lord. “Come on then.”

Without looking back, Hoggle stepped through the door and started walking down the hall. Rose peeked at the Doctor, shrugged, and followed the goblin through. The Time Lord lingered for a few seconds. Perhaps he was more accustomed to the dark. For as frightening as it could be, it had been a place of comfort, revelations even. It was a familiar beast. This labyrinth…it certainly wasn’t that. Rose knew the Doctor disliked the word magic, but she didn’t know how else to describe this world. Yet, he still followed, still ventured forward into a place that went against all his rules.

And she loved him deeply for it. 

******** 

Rose, the Doctor, and Hoggle walked through the stone cavern. It was like a path had been directly cut through a mountain. Gemstones protruded out from the sides of the walls, the stones themselves jagged and sparkling. It didn’t take too long for Rose to notice that the walls were actually in the shape of giant faces. 

“This way,” said Hoggle, urging them forward. 

The faces gawked at the passing figures, reacting to every step. Rose had finally reached the point where all memory of the film had abandoned her, and she hadn’t a clue as to why. She’d seen it countless times. Even if it had been a while, traces of it had to linger, yes? But nothing came up, like the memory of Labyrinth had been sucked dry from her mind. However, Rose had a few advantages over the film’s protagonist. She was older, experienced in adventures, and not alone. 

She was so close to him, that his fingers twitched whenever they neared her hand. Rose could feel the small swoosh of air from the tick. If she were bolder, Rose would have taken it into hers, like they used to. But then, another trick of the maze interrupted her thoughts. 

“Don’t go on,” said one of the stone faces. Its voice boomed through the cavern, causing Rose to nearly jump. The Doctor reacted minimally like he’d expected this. 

“Go back while you still can,” another warned. The stone of its lower lip fell as it spoke, giving the impression of a mouth. Rose wondered, where were these living things, or were they just traps?

Hoggle was unperturbed by the messages, making steady progress forward. Meanwhile, the Doctor trotted alongside her through the hall, scrutinizing the stone carvings as they passed. He laughed quietly, glancing at her. “It’s all very theatrical.” She smirked, unsure how else to reply, but the stone voices stole their attention again. 

“This is not the way.”

“Take heed and go no further.”

“Beware,” one dragged out menacingly. “Beware!”

 “Soon it will be too late.”

It was starting to be a bit much. “Um, Hoggle?” asked Rose, feeling a bit unsettled. “Should we be worried about that?” 

“Nah,” Hoggle chuckled, continuing to walk. “Don’t pay any attention to them. They’re just false alarms. You get a lot of them in the labyrinth,” he raised a hand in dismissal, “especially when you’re on the right track.”

“Oh no you’re not!” A stone face argued. 

“Shut up!” yelled Hoggle, stomping his foot. 

The stone face paused, embarrassed. “Sorry,” it said weakly. “Just doing my job.” Its voice was much less threatening now. The tone sounded rather like Rose’s father’s did, profusely apologizing after Jackie screamed at him. 

Hoggle put his hands on his hips in protest. “Well, you don’t have to do it to us.”

“At least we know he’s not just rude to me,” the Doctor mumbled under his breath.

The trio had neared the end of the hall, with only a few faces remaining. Just a few more and they would be out of earshot. Rose couldn’t wait. She could deal with fewer tricks that urged on her anxieties. 

“Beware!” shouted one of the last carvings, “for the-”

“Just forget it,” the goblin groaned. Rose couldn’t have put her better herself. 

“Oh please,” begged the stone face. Its eyes and lips were stoic, having been carved into the wall, but it almost looked sad. “I haven’t said it in such a long time.”

Hoggle stared at it for a moment, then sighed. “Oh, alright. But don’t expect a big reaction!” The goblin threw his arms up in the air. 

“No, no! Of course not.” The stone face cleared its throat. “For the path you will face will lead to certain destruction!” Despite its inexpressive structure, it appeared thrilled to have an audience. “Thank you very much.”

“Anytime.” The Doctor grinned, delighted by the promise of his demise. It was one of Rose’s favorite aspects of his character.

“Suits you right,” she tittered. In moments like these, she was grateful for that earnest sense of humor. 

“Ugh,” complained Hoggle, his lips curled in disgust. “It’s hard enough when one human runs the labyrinth, chattering about. Of course I’ve got two to deal with.” 

“Oh, I’m not human,” the Doctor clarified, tapping the right side of his chest. “I’ve got two hearts.” 

That did make Hoggle pause, turning around to scrutinize the Time Lord. The goblin narrowed his eyes, not quite believing what he just heard. “Yeah,” he derided, “and I can transform into a handsome prince.” 

Rose’s brain itched at the conversation. Hoggle spoke about this labyrinth’s history like he’d lived through it. As if there were a real kind of people who inhabited it and humans who dared to challenge it. If the Toymaker created this world in imitation of her childhood film, it was a damn good copy. She felt bad for the goblin, wondering how real he thought this all was. The Doctor understood the Toymaker’s powers better, but she gathered well enough that he was a master of illusion. Maybe this was his greatest game yet, playing with life, dreams, and hopes. 

But as Hoggle and the Doctor continued to babble, she noticed something they didn’t: a crystal orb rolling across the floor. Her breathing faltered as it moved seamlessly past their feet, toward an unknown source. 

“Doctor,” she urged, tugging at his sleeve. 

He snapped to attention, looking to her face for guidance, then following her gaze to the floor. Hoggle did the same and emitted a groan at the sight of the orb. “Oh no,” he cringed, the wrinkles of his face bunching up. Yet, despite his distress, the goblin trudged forward, walking to where the orb had rolled. 

Rose and the Doctor did the same, equally curious as to Hoggle’s sudden display of quiet compliance. They accompanied the orb, which escorted them out of the stone-face cavern, and into another dark hallway. Limestone walls gave way to brick, damp with water. The ground remained dry, brown dirt shifting under Rose’s feet as she walked. Cobwebs were littered throughout. A few caught in her hair when she passed. Small bits of light shone above, sun rays passing through lids on the roof. 

The passage was abandoned, unloved, and uncared for, like a dirty sewer you’d find beneath a city. Yet, it was not empty, because another goblin was perched against a wall. The unknown goblin was hunched against a wall. Its shoulders slumped forward, sagged with either age or exhaustion. Blue cloth draped its body, and a three-cornered hat decorated its head. A long nose poked out from under the hat’s folds, but the goblin’s eyes were bound with a white cloth. Its hand held out a metal cup, shaking back and forth. Rose tried to remember what happened next in the film, but her mind pulled up blanks. Why couldn’t she remember? 

Suddenly, the orb stilled mere steps from the goblin. The ball leaped up, graciously sliding into the beggar’s cup. “Ah,” the goblin croaked, “and what do we have here?” 

“Uh, nothing,” Hoggle quickly answered, backing up against Rose and the Doctor. He pushed them back a few steps. Rose wasn’t sure if he was being protective, or doing a weak attempt at hiding them. 

“Hm, nothing?” The beggar’s voice shifted to a dreadful German accent; that accent. 

“Oh god,” she breathed, the Doctor stiffening beside her as he came to the same conclusion. 

The beggar threw aside the metal cup, which rattled as it hit the wall, and then the floor. The sound echoed throughout the empty passage. Then, the goblins’ hands tore at its clothes, ripping off the cloak and hat to reveal the Toymaker in its wake. 

Fear once again dominated Rose, but not enough to where she didn’t notice Hoggle’s reaction. He went still, his eyes glazing over. His brows creased, mouth dropping open in surprise. But there was no sense of fear that she got from him, only confusion. Why was that? 

“Hello there,” the Toymaker winked. The black leather outfit had been swapped for a more casual version. Now,  he wore a brown vest and gray leggings. It was a rather unflattering look, the clothes not quite clinging to his body in the right way. 

Hoggle’s lip quivered. “I…I thought you were Jareth. Who are you?” Jareth… the name rang a bell in Rose’s mind. Wasn’t that the name of the Goblin King, the one the Toymaker was doing a piss-poor cosplay of? It had to be, considering the gravitas in which Hoggle said it. 

The Toymaker sneered, delighted by the goblin’s question. “Why, I’m your king.” 

Hoggle’s body went stiff at the declaration. “I-I,” he stuttered, “I ain’t ever seen you before.” 

As expected, the Toymaker giggled. “Well, rest assured” he replied, ”you’ll be seeing me around a lot more, Hogwart.” 

“Hoggle,” said Rose, her gaze stern. 

“Oh is it? Sorry, I don’t have the time to learn the names of all my subjects,” he tilted his head teasingly. 

“Why are you bothering us? Changed your mind, have you?” the Doctor asked, his tone sardonic. “Is this game not going your way?” 

“On the contrary, it’s been quite entertaining.” The Toymaker summoned another orb, twirling it in his hand. “This little world has so many pawns for me to play with.”

“You shouldn’t be able to do that,” said Hoggle, more candid than wary. The goblin shook his head, trying to piece together what he saw. “Only his majesty can do that.”

The Toymaker stilled, his eyes rolling up in annoyance. He turned his head jaggedly.  “I don’t think you heard me,” he told Hoggle, “I am your king.” 

“I-I,” Hoggle mumbled, twisting his fingers nervously. 

Irritated by the goblin, the Toymaker decided to torment the Doctor instead. “And you? How are you liking my labyrinth?” My labyrinth. A sense of ownership dominated his words. The Toymaker leaned one arm against the wall. His gestures felt stiff, and practiced, with no trace of that alluring Bowie swagger from the movie. Despite how much he wanted to assert his authority, the Toymaker was still a stranger to his role.

The Doctor’s expression was cross. “It’s a piece of cake,” he said, lips tight. 

Rose knew that was the wrong answer as soon as the Toymaker’s expression morphed into pure, unadulterated merriment. “Hm, then how about upping the stakes?” Their foe snapped his fingers, and a small golden clock appeared. It floated in the air, displaying the ticking hours that were left to solve the maze. The Toymaker twirled his hand and three hours were wound forward. 

“What are you doing?” the Doctor screeched, tension dripping off his words. “That’s not part of the terms.” 

“The terms are whatever I say they are, Doctor,” the Toymaker snapped back. 

Rage boiled in Rose’s chest. “You’ll pay for that,” she nearly screamed at him. 

“This is wrong. This is so, so wrong,” the Doctor muttered, taken aback. He shook his head as his entire sense of the Toymaker crumbled. “You play by the rules. You’re bound by them. That’s the one thing that makes sense about you.”

But the Toymaker’s expression remained smug, ignoring the Doctor’s plea for explanation. “We’re in a different world, Doctor. Things here aren’t always what they seem.” He walked down the hall, lifting his orb. “A piece of cake, you said?” He twirled his hand, then gripped the orb. “Then let’s see how you deal with this little slice.”

The Toymaker threw the orb into the darkness down the hall. Soon after, he faded from sight. “Bastard,” Rose cursed. The Doctor’s lips tugged upward at that. 

“Hush,” warned Hoggle, his fists clenched, “you don’t know what he just called.” 

At first, Rose saw nothing. The faint traces of light revealed no monster. Then, she heard the metallic groans of heavy machinery whirring up. “Doctor,” she said warily, glancing sideways at him. 

The sounds grew louder, and light soon revealed the source. It was a massive, twisting machine. Circular in shape, several iron spikes poked out from it, with different sections turning around, not unlike a drill. It took up the entire space of the hall, tearing apart cobwebs as it moved forward. 

“Oh no, it’s the cleaners!” Hoggle cried, panicked. He took off running in the other direction, not wasting a second to linger around. 

But that hardly mattered to Rose, because despite Hoggle’s fear, the Toymaker’s unsettling behavior, and the torture device threatening to consume them all, the Doctor did the one thing that always made her feel safe. 

He grabbed her hand, their palms intertwining, and yelled: “Run!”

Chapter Text

“If you say run, I'll run with you

And if you say hide, we'll hide

Because my love for you would break my heart in two”

- David Bowie, “Let’s Dance”

******** 

For the Doctor, the labyrinth was a test of patience. There was the fact that a madman engineered it, how its rules and patterns were constantly in flux, and especially how it made his entire body tingle with a sense of wrongness. He should have lost his mind by now. Perhaps he would have, if it weren’t for moments like these: him, in a dark tunnel, sprinting at full speed ahead with Rose Tyler. Now this…this felt just right. When he held her hand in his, his time here was well worthwhile. 

On all their travels, whenever the two ran from some alien threat, the Doctor’s favorite part was when Rose’s eyes caught his own. She always smiled, no matter how broken or exhausted she was. His mind was often his worst enemy, telling him that bringing companions on the TARDIS was just a sure way to guarantee an early demise. But when the creases of their eyes wrinkled, granting a hint of that irresistible human thrill for the wonders and terrors of the universe, he knew that it was a match. For Rose Tyler, it went beyond even that. She showed him a way of the darkness, so he would do his damnedest to return the favor, no matter how unworthy he sometimes felt. The Doctor saw that beautiful smile now, and his grip on Rose’s hand began to feel like it was the only thing tethering him to this world.  

The sound of what Hoggle called “the cleaners” rumbled behind. The Doctor could hear the crunch of objects being swept up into the machine, torn apart by the rotating metal spikes. Up ahead, he could spot the goblin doing his best to evade the threat. The Doctor had to hand it to him: that was one hell of a run. 

“So much for small legs!” the Doctor chastised Hoggle, he and Rose finally catching up to the goblin. 

“Now really isn't the time!” Hoggle screamed back, the legs in question working double-time. He was fighting with all his might to avoid the crush of the machine. Unfortunately, a rock had other plans. Hoggle tumbled, tripping on a loose stone. He fell face-first into the dirt. 

With the goblin at her left, Rose reached out her free hand in aid. “Here!” she yelled. Quickly, Hoggle hoisted himself up and gladly took hold. His speed increased as the trio darted through the passage, moving as a single unit. 

Despite his distrust of Hoggle, the Doctor’s hearts tinged with admiration at Rose’s act. The goblin had abandoned them at the first sight of the cleaners, his fear winning out. Yet, Rose still wanted to help him. He probably would have done the same, but she’d been quicker to it. She was meant for this life. No wonder she missed it. 

“Come on,” the Doctor urged, snapping back to the scene of action. “Faster!” 

Rose and Hoggle heeded his advice, moving at the speed of a gazelle being hunted. But their efforts were in vain because soon the Doctor spotted a catastrophe ahead. “Oh no,” Hoggle wailed, noticing the same thing. 

An iron gate blocked the rest of the hall. The three of them crashed into it, letting go of each other’s hands to claw at the bars. Behind the gate, the Doctor could see a spiral stone staircase, leading up into a sunny escape above. Unfortunately, the door was locked shut. Rose joggled it helplessly. “You can’t be serious!” she cried in frustration. 

“All this running, just to die in a stinking pit!” the goblin sniveled, kicking a bar with his foot. “And all for some stupid magic wand.” Hoggle banged his head on the metal gate repeatedly. 

Then, the cogs in the Doctor’s mind started to turn. Metal…magic wand… wait! The Doctor let go of the bars, pulled out the sonic screwdriver from his lapel, and aimed the device at the lock. He pressed the button, and the whirring sound it emitted was like music to his ears. With a delicate snap, the metal lock broke free, and the Doctor triumphantly opened the door. 

“Hah!” He screamed in excitement. “Metal! That’s what I like to see!” Finally, something that wasn’t made of dirt and stone. 

“Celebrate all you want, I’m getting out of here!” Hoggle hastened through the door and toward the staircase. The Doctor allowed Rose to pass through, before stepping through toward the escape himself. Rapidly approaching, the cleaners sounded powerful enough to tear down the metal bars. If the Doctor had a half second more to calibrate, he was sure he might have been able to stop the rotating iron spikes in their track. But he didn’t, so he went with plan b: bolt up the stairs. His companions had the same idea. 

The Doctor climbed, winding up around steps that could have gone on forever. Above him, Hoggle huffed and puffed. Perhaps this was more exercise than he was used to. Rose remained diligent, her speed motivated by the death machine below. The Doctor paused when he was far enough the divide between the roof of the passage and the rest of the stairwell. He heard the sound of crashing metal. 

The cleaners had collided with the gates, and then the bottom of the staircase beyond. The entire structure shook as Rose, the Doctor, and Hoggle held on for dear life. Thankfully, the shaking stopped, and the rest of the staircase remained intact. The Doctor looked down to find spikes poking through the lower steps, but unable to move forward. Its rotation was frozen; stone-blocking metal made movement impossible. The group let out a collective sigh. 

“God,” Rose chuckled slightly, “that was terrifying.” She rested her head against the core of the staircase. 

“You’re telling me!” Hoggle concurred, shaking his head in amazement. 

The Doctor allowed himself a breath. “Right you are,” he exhaled, “but we ought to keep going up.” He kissed his screwdriver in thanks, then tucked it back into his jacket for safekeeping. Then, he continued climbing the stairs. Rose and Hoggle did the same, for the sun shone brightly above their heads, teasing freedom. 

******** 

Hoggle took the first step into the sunlight. Rose surfaced, and then the Doctor. Gazing around, the Time Lord saw that the stairs led up to a large opening, surrounded by hedge mazes. Neatly trimmed, the greenery was reminiscent of earlier parts of the labyrinth, ones that the Doctor and Rose previously passed through. Large shrubs surrounded the area, all cut in the shape of nutcrackers. 

A giant sundial sat next to the opening they emerged from. He observed the fall of the light on the ground. Like all the clocks in this place, there were symbols for thirteen hours. Seven hours left. Because of the Toymaker’s interference, more than half the time had already disappeared. The image of the goblin city taunted the Doctor in the distance, no closer than it had been at the start of the maze. Don’t worry, he thought, thinking of his niece, we’ll find you.

Next to the sundial was a throne, which was currently unoccupied. Beside it, Hoggle slumped to the ground. The throne was made up of several stone books, all stacked neatly to form a seat. The Doctor rather liked the presentation. Sadly, Hoggle couldn't care less. “That’s it,” he moaned. “I quit!” 

Rose narrowed her eyes at him. “Sorry, what do you mean?” 

As the goblin stood back up at full height, there was a mark in his eyes. It signaled that Hoggle felt entirely out of his depth. If that was what a labyrinth local was thinking, then that wasn’t good at all. “I mean you two are on your own from now on,” he said, clutching at his sides. “I can’t help y’all.” 

“Wait, no,” said Rose, growing defensive. She adopted a sort of maternal tone as she started lecturing. “You said you would help us get to the center.”

“Well, I said that before I realized that we’re in some damn overthrow.” Hoggle’s hands twitched, unsettled. 

For the first time, the Doctor felt a pang of empathy for Hoggle. He didn’t like people, or even goblins, that said rude things for the sake of rudeness. Yet, he understood that the goblin was thrown off by the Toymaker. He didn’t recognize the mastermind, and that was weird. The Doctor wanted to know why. 

Gently, he placed a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Rose,” the Doctor said softly, “I think Hoggle might have a point.” 

Thankfully, she relaxed at the contact. The Doctor was ever so grateful for that hug in the oubliette. If things went his way, he was planning on having many more. “I…alright,” Rose said. She looked at Hoggle. “You mentioned Jareth. You said that name earlier.”

Hoggle nodded. “Yeah, it’s the name of our king. The Goblin King.”

“I know,” said Rose, nodding along. “I’ve seen the movie.”

“There you go,” sighed Hoggle. “Talking nonsense words again.”

“Regardless,” butted in the Doctor, “you told the Toymaker that he wasn’t your king. That’s not part of your story, so you haven’t seen him before.” 

“Of course I haven’t!” Hoggle yelled defensively, throwing his arms up. “But he sure acts as arrogant as his majesty. I’ll give him that. Even has that crystal ball trick too.” 

“That’s so strange,” replied the Doctor, running a hand through his hair as he tried to summon a logical answer. “I had thought that the Toymaker had made a copy of this world, the world from the movie you were watching.” What if…oh no. The Doctor’s eyes widened as a frightening possibility dawned on him. 

Rose bit her lip, trying to catch up. “What is it?”

“What if this isn’t the Toymaker’s world?” A bead of sweat ran down the Doctor’s brow. “What if he didn’t make any of this?” 

“Come again?” asked Hoggle, his mouth gaping. He was completely lost. 

“You’re saying he stole it,” said Rose, the answer coming to her slowly. “Does that mean this is a p-”

“A parallel world,” the Doctor finished for her. “The Toymaker has brought us to a parallel world, one that’s exactly like that film.”

“Is that even possible?” Rose shook her head, not quite understanding. “I mean, a world that’s a carbon copy of an eighties movie? That…sounds insane.”

The Doctor shrugged, moving his hand to the back of his neck. “Why not? There are trillions upon trillions of parallel worlds. Ones where even magic,” he cringed at the word, “might exist. Ones that look exactly like an eighties movie, minus David Bowie.” 

“That’s…kind of amazing.” Rose couldn’t help but smile, and the Doctor didn’t blame her. It was rather brilliant. But this discovery also meant something very, very bad. 

“Rose,” the Doctor said gravely, “this means the Toymaker can travel across parallel worlds. Not only that, but he can drag others, like you and me, like your daughter and my niece, to them.” His hearts were racing. The true gravity of the situation was hitting him at full force. 

Her lip quivered. “What do we do then? How do we stop him? Keep him from causing more harm?”

The Doctor’s eyes went downtrodden. “I don’t know,” he answered, honestly. However, the Time Lord refused to be beaten, not when he won fair and square last time. “But we still have to get to the center, for the girls.” 

“You two can go wherever you like,” said Hoggle, his words quieter than usual. “I can’t…I can’t do this.”

Rose’s expression went soft. “Hoggle, he’s stolen your world,” she said. The goblin’s reaction was guarded, but he listened carefully. “Don’t you want to try and help it?”

Hoggle’s figure slumped, any trace of sardonic power dissipating. He was afraid; afraid, and hesitant to do anything to change it. “You have to understand my position. I’m a coward,” he admitted, “and that man…he scares me.” 

Closing her eyes in reflection, Rose exhaled. “You’re not a coward, Hoggle. It’s just easier to be.”

“I ain’t got a clue how to change that,” Hoggle countered, but the Doctor could see her words were getting to him. It was in his stance, the way his feet were poised to escape, but failed to step away. Instead, the goblin sat on the pavement, overwhelmed by the potential of danger. “Do you two think you’re better than me?” His tone was curt, a return to the cynical. “Barely been here a few hours, and you think you can fix what’s gone wrong?” 

But Rose wasn’t offended. Instead, she mimicked Hoggle’s body language, opting to sit on the floor too. She was good at connecting with others. It didn't matter whether they were aliens, Victorian servants, or goblins; Rose saw the drive for good inside them, no matter how deep it was buried. The Doctor was content to watch on and let her work her magic. “Some people close to me once said the same thing,” she said, reflecting with a light smile. “Know what I told them?” 

Hoggle played with his fingers. “What?” 

“You don’t give up. You don’t just let things happen. You make a stand.” Rose punctuated each sentence with a hard period. Her presentation flowed with a practiced experience of maturity. The tone was equally scolding and sympathetic, something only the dedicated parent of a teenager could master. Something moved in Hoggle as she spoke. There was a shift in the light of his eyes. “He taught me that,” Rose finished, signaling at the Doctor with a nod. “I was younger back then, and I’ve had my fair share of life since then, but he’s the first one who showed me I could do more; be more than what other people said I was worth.”  

The Doctor’s face softened. He wasn’t sure if what she was saying was true. Was it he who showed her, or did she discover that for herself? He was just a traveler, but many revered him. He was titled the savior and destroyer of worlds. Maybe they were right. But all the Doctor wanted was to help. Part of helping was letting others come into themselves. He had failed Rose Tyler many times, but he was glad to see he hadn’t failed her in this. 

“I…I want things to go back to how they were. I want him gone,” said Hoggle, referring to the Toymaker. 

“Then we can help you do that,” said the Doctor, seizing the chance to chime in. Diplomatically, he held out a hand toward the goblin. “We will set things right. Promise.” 

And by some miracle, the goblin didn’t bark an insult. Hoggle's eyes darted back and forth, coming to some internal conclusion. Then, the Goblin slowly reached out and shook the Doctor’s hand. “For my home,” he said. The sentence was both a contract and a promise.

"For your home," reiterated the Doctor.

Now, solving this labyrinth was about more than defeating the Toymaker. It was about giving the land back to its inhabitants. The Doctor had lost his world, more than once. He’d do anything to prevent another from facing the same fate. 

And there they were, the most unlikely alliance: a goblin, a human, and a Time Lord. The Doctor only had one more thing to say. “Well then, if you’re ready,” he told Hoggle, grinning playfully, “allons-y!”

Chapter Text

“I've nothing much to offer

There's nothing much to take

I'm an absolute beginner

But I'm absolutely sane

As long as we're together

The rest can go to hell”

- David Bowie, “Absolute Beginners”

******** 

No matter how far someone got through the labyrinth, the goblin city always appeared like it would take eons to reach. The trick was to deceive the runners, making them overthink every step until they lost all track of time. Rose knew this all thanks to Hoggle, whose knowledge was already proving invaluable. 

“You’re not supposed to win, obviously” the goblin shared, shaking his head. “No one has in centuries. If you’re doing well, the maze changes. You’ve probably noticed that.”

Rose recalled the several dead ends of earlier. “It’s quite annoying,” she admitted, kneading the ache on her forehead. 

“Why have a labyrinth at all then?” asked the Doctor, confused by the strategy. “Why not just steal children and be done with it? It's a bit gratuitous.” 

Hoggle sighed. “Goblins don’t just steal children.” He repeated the words, but the different inflection altered the meaning of those words. “We only take those who are wished away. They become one of us, part of this world. There are worse fates for a child than turning into a goblin. Trust me.”

“I do,” said the Doctor, his expression unreadable. Well, unreadable to anyone but Rose. He was thinking of Gallifrey, and all those children turned to ash. 

“The labyrinth is for when people change their minds.” Hoggle adjusted the clip on his bangle, which had caught on his shirt during the escape from the cleaners. “Wishing your child away is shameful, but also a final resort. If you’re willing to lose them, then you’ve given up your rights. The children have to be earned back. This whole thing is a test to see how much a person would fight for that.” 

“Because people make mistakes,” Rose reasoned, pulling at a strand of her hair. “Say things they don’t mean.” The sting of Mia’s words may have dissipated, but they were still etched into her soul. She couldn’t let that be her last conversation with her daughter. Rose refused to make that her reality. How could she live with herself? What would her husband think? Instinctively, Rose inspected the Doctor, who both was and wasn’t that man. She was glad he was focused on Hoggle. They knew how to read each other’s faces too intimately. 

“And that’s why this man, your Toymaker,” Hoggle practically spat the name out, “has to be stopped. Jareth may be cruel, but he’s sensible. He doesn’t like being beaten by runners, but he lets them go. They have no power over him.”

You have no power over me. Those were the final words Sarah spoke to the Goblin King in the film. It’s how she saved her brother in the end. She redeemed herself by solving the maze, but she also had to exert her authority. Why this particular moment came back to Rose, and none of the others, confounded her. 

‘But we didn’t even wish our children away,” maintained Rose, assuring Hoggle that this wasn’t their choice. “The Toymaker just stole my daughter and the Doctor’s niece for the hell of it.” 

Hoggle didn’t seem to entirely buy it. “Then what did you wish for?” 

Rose hesitated before answering, glancing at the Doctor, whose own lips were tight. “I just wished things were different,” she deflected, not wanting to get into the intricacies of what she said. “That’s all.” 

“And you?” Hoggle asked the Doctor. 

“Same,” he replied, not elaborating further, but keeping his eyes on Hoggle. “You keep mentioning this Jareth, but where is he?” The Doctor asked a valid question, even if he was just trying to change the subject. “If he’s the king around here, and he’s as stubborn as you describe, I would think he’d put a stop to all this.” 

“Beats me,” Hoggle shrugged, although the gesture was less relaxed than it had been earlier. “When I first saw you two on the hill, outside the labyrinth, I thought you were with him. He always starts runners there.”

Rose wanted to delve more into the details, but as always, time was working against them. “We can worry about that later. We should find the fastest way to the city,” she urged. 

“Alright then,” said the Doctor, gesturing to Hoggle, “you better get a move on.”

Hoggle blinked in surprise. “Me? Oh no,” he chuffed nervously. “My job is to lead people back to the beginning. I only know the way out of the maze.”

The Doctor exhaled, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Brilliant. Just brilliant.” 

Rose spared another look at their surroundings. The shrubberies, throne, and sundial weren’t all that useful, but there had to be a clue somewhere. Fortunately, she only had to wait a few seconds until her prayers were answered. 

A goblin emerged from the hedges, walking slowly toward the throne. He was elderly and covered in rags. A long, gray beard stretched past his face, nearly touching the ground. A large hat in the shape of a red peacock rested on his head. The Doctor soon noticed the new arrival, eyes squinting at the sight. Hoggle showed no sign of recognition, meaning that this goblin was also a stranger to him. The old one stepped onto the throne and plopped down. He sighed, wearied by his travels. Rose figured this was as good a time to butt in as any. 

“Excuse me,” she asked, stepping closer, “can you help us?” She gave him a warm smile. 

The old one settled into his seat, not quite noticing her at first. Once he did, his eyes widened at the sight of her. “Ooh, blonde girl,” he said in awe. He outstretched his arms, grasping each handle of the stone throne. 

“And a pretty boy!” the old one’s bird hat suddenly chirped. The Doctor almost flinched, not expecting it to be conscious. He really ought to know better by now. 

The Time Lord pointed at himself, glancing at Rose. “The hat thinks I’m pretty,” he said, smugly. 

Rose scoffed. “Don’t let that get to your head.” 

But she figured he did, as per usual. The Doctor couldn’t help it in that body. Vanity was his vice. Not that it was without grounds, though. He did have really good hair. 

“I don’t see it, frankly,” argued Hoggle, the charm evading him. The Doctor had his fair share of offended looks toward the goblin, but the one he bore now was by far one of the most entertaining. 

“Oh,” said the old one, taking notice of Hoggle, “and who is this?” He frowned at the mere presence of a less exotic guest. 

“He’s with us,” said the Doctor, taking the high road. Rose was grateful he did. It was best if they didn’t alienate their only ally, even if the goblin was driving him mad. “Part of the crew.” 

Hoggle mumbled some form of ingratitude as Rose touched his shoulder. Surprised, the goblin turned his head, but Rose only smiled at their small friend. If Hoggle could blush, he certainly would have there. “Crew,” he said under his breath. “Nice.” 

“Oh, yes,” said the old one, brushing Hoggle off to study Rose and the Doctor. “And what can I do for you?”

“We have to get to the center of this labyrinth,” she said, silently pleading that he knew the direction to start. “Do you know the way?” 

The old one went silent, pondering. After a moment's pause, he said: “Yes.” 

“That’s perfect!” exclaimed the Doctor. “Could you point it out to us?”

“Oh yes,” the old one answered again. But instead of lifting a finger in the right direction, he stared blankly at the group. This went on for quite some time, with Rose, the Doctor, and Hoggle awkwardly standing as they waited for an answer. 

“Um,” said the Doctor, tugging at his hair impatiently.

“How’s that for brain power?” the bird hat squealed, highly judgemental. 

The old one’s eyes turned up. “Be quiet!” 

“Oh nuts,” replied the bird, turning its head away sassily. 

“Which way should we go?” Rose directed the question at the old one, trying to break the tension and hurry the conversation.

The old one took another moment to reconcile his thoughts. “The way forward,” he finally began, leaning for effect, “is sometimes the way back.” 

The Doctor raised his brows. “Huh, very astute.” 

“Ai,” complained the hat, sighing, “will you listen to this crap?” The old one shot a murderous look upward, while Hoggle rolled his eyes at the entire situation. 

“Well, the Doctor’s a time traveler, so that’s sort of good advice,” Rose joked, emitting a chuckle out of the Time Lord. 

“Don’t I know it,” he agreed, delighted by the nature of her jest. Rose was glad the awkwardness of earlier had given way to a more comfortable flow of conversation. This was the kind of adventure she missed, if she could even call it that. 

As if he understood, the old one nodded in agreement. “Quite often,” he began, his voice scratched with age, “it seems like we’re not getting very far, when in fact-”

“We are,” the hat chimed in, a pleased smile on its face. That earned it another irritated glare.

“We are,” the old one declared, his statement made firmer as a means to usurp the bird’s version. 

Hoggle said the labyrinth would try to throw them off the scent. Maybe the castle wasn’t as far as it seemed, Rose thought. “So we’re close to the center, yeah?” she still asked, figuring a confirmation would be helpful. 

But the old man’s eyes had closed, his chest rising slowly up and down. The goblin had fallen asleep. Whether he was bored by the conversation or just elderly, their time with him had expired. “Eh,” said the hat, observing its partner, “I think that’s your lot.” 

Although asleep, the old man’s hand reached into the rags that engulfed him, then pulled out a small, wooden box. There was a slot carved into it. The old man’s hand shook and the sound of coins and metal chimed. “Please leave a contribution in the little box.”

“Oh,” said the Doctor, patting himself down. “I haven’t got any money.”

“Same,” said Rose, a bit embarrassed. The old man hadn’t said anything particularly useful, but she didn’t want to be rude, or else risk some horrible trap springing up. 

Hoggle groaned, vexed by the state of his friends’ pockets. He opened his pouch of jewels to pull out a red ruby, barely the size of his palm. “Why do I bother?” complained the goblin, dropping the ruby into the box. “You didn’t tell us nothing.” 

The hat’s eyes flexed in amusement. “Gracias!” 

Fairly certain they were just conned, Rose decided to get a move on. “Okay,” she said, pointing toward an opening in the hedge maze. “There’s as good a place to start as any.” 

“We’ll manage,” agreed the Doctor, his demeanor hopeful. 

“When this is all over,” said Hoggle, already moving away from the group, “you two better pay me back.”

“And then some, Hoggle,” the Doctor teased, shooting a playful look at Rose. “And then some.” 

The three strayed away from the confusing old man and his even more confusing hat. As they entered the hedge maze, the hat chuckled. “Well there goes a few suckers,” it proclaimed, hoping to get a rise out of its companion. The hat looked down, only to find that the old man was still sound asleep. It breathed deeply. “Eh, it’s so stimulating being your hat.” 

******** 

Their journey through the hedge maze was a return to form. Although he insisted that he didn’t exactly know how to get to the center, Hoggle had a great knack for figuring out the wrong way to go. The group spent about half an hour just weaving, identical rows of greenery shielding them from a full view of the castle. Other than deciding which way to turn, there wasn’t much to do other than to make random conversation. Thankfully, the Doctor excelled in that area. 

“Labyrinth…that was one of those Jim Henson puppet films, right?” He tilted his head, trying to recall. “Is Kermit in this?” 

Rose wasn’t sure if he was attempting to raise their spirits with a joke, or if that was a legitimate question. “Um,” she muttered, “no Kermit.” At least not in her memory. 

“Shame,” he puffed, genuinely disappointed. “I like Kermit. Kermit’s nice.”

“You say that like he’s a real, living thing,” Rose laughed. 

A contemplative look crossed the Doctor's face, like he had a secret he was dying to let out. “Let’s just say…I had a very interesting trip to America in the seventies. There may or may not have been,” he scratched the back of his neck, “a few off-world guests that year.” 

It should have been ridiculous, this conversation, but it made Rose’s heart feel lighter. This kind of talk, the jokes amid grave danger, was exactly why she fell for the Doctor in the first place. “You’re full of it,” she said, discombobulated by the idea. “Kermit is not…stop.” 

“Whatever you say,” the Doctor digressed, shooting her a small smile. 

It was almost frightening how easily they fell back into this pattern. Bantering friends, that’s what they were, nothing more. For now, that’s all they could afford. In the oubliette, they had picked up the pieces of what they meant to one another, but that didn’t mean the rest of the puzzle wasn’t scattered. The tougher conversation, the one Rose wanted deep in her core, would have to wait. Everything would have to wait. 

Ducking under an archway, Rose noticed how frequently their goblin ally was picking at his fingertips. Nasty habit, that was, but also a clear sign of nerves. “What is it Hoggle?” Rose’s voice was gentle, trying not to press too hard. 

Hesitation was clear in Hoggle’s tense body reaction. However, he soon relaxed, making some internal decision to reveal what was worrying him. “Why did you say that earlier?” the goblin asked, turning right at the next opening, “About my being your friend?” 

“That’s because you are,” said Rose. She was having a hard time deciding whether to chuckle at the goblin’s humility, or frown at the hint that no one had ever called Hoggle their friend before. 

“You’re stuck with us, mate,” the Doctor chimed in, his hands resting in his coat pockets as he strolled about. Rose was impressed that he let Hoggle take the lead, instead of insisting that he could figure out the best way through. 

“Hm,” mumbled the goblin, thinking hard. “Friend. I like that.” His feet dragged along the stone floor, in his odd, almost limp-like walk. “I ain’t never been no one’s friend before.”

“And now you’ve got two,” added the Doctor, nudging Hoggle on the shoulder. For the first time, the goblin lightly smiled at the Time Lord, rather than sneering. 

Unfortunately, the moment was disrupted by a loud, piercing cry. A monstrous roar echoed throughout the maze, the soundwaves hitting the group. The noise was unidentifiable, sounding nothing like any person, or animal, Rose recognized. Although she and the Doctor were startled, Hoggle physically jumped. 

“To hell with that!” the goblin screamed, his little feet kicking up as he made a run for it. 

“Ah ah ah,” sounded the Doctor, grabbing Hoggle’s arm. “You can’t just go. We’re here to save your world, remember?” 

The roar rumbled again, louder this time. Hoggle listened in fear, eyes growing bigger. However, Rose listened closely to the roar. It didn’t make her afraid. It sounded…sad, not angry, like the creature emitting it was in great pain. 

Hoggle looked to his left, likely sorting out an escape plan. “Oh, I don’t like this,” he said nervously. However, he let the Doctor drag him along closer to the source of the scream. 

“It’ll be fine,” the Time Lord insisted. “Time to be brave now.”

The trio weaved through unfamiliar parts of the hedge maze, finally passing an archway that gave a view to the exit. Limestone walls lay ahead, queuing a different section of the labyrinth. How lucky for us, Rose thought. She figured certain danger was a good indicator that they were on the right path. 

Rose was the first to exit the hedge maze, coming upon a most unexpected site. A large, fuzzy creature was hanging upside down. It was gargantuan, perhaps the same size as a slitheen. With bright orange fur and large horns, it was nearly as tall as the large tree it swung from. Rose hadn’t seen any species quite like it, but it looked like a cross between a water buffalo and an orangutan, with long, saggy ears like a dog. In other words: it was adorable. 

Unfortunately, the creature was being assaulted by four armored goblins. Despite their small stature, the goblins wore spiked helmets and held out long sticks that they kept ramming into the creature. It cried as the sticks poked and prodded it, giving context for the source of the roars. Even worse, the sticks weren’t just sticks: they were mounts for ravenous beasts. Little, hairless, and pink, the living weapons had razor-sharp teeth that bit into the orange creature. Rose winced as she watched, every roar unsettling her. 

The Doctor and Hoggle seemed equally disturbed. The orange creature was huge, but it was also helpless. Its feet were tied with thick ropes around the top of the tree, restricting its movement. It barely had a chance to defend itself from the small goblins, who cackled with glee as they hurt the poor thing.

“We should go,” pleaded Hoggle, wanting to avoid the bite of those pink demons. 

“And leave that innocent goblin alone?” said the Doctor, tsking. “No. Out of the question.” 

Rose looked at the creature as it continued to scream. “If only I had something to throw,” she wished, the violent urge hitting her. She caught eyes with the creature, whose gaze shone with intense pain. 

The creature emitted a strong howl, louder than before. Even with the noise, Rose heard a delicate rolling sound behind her. Something grazed the back of her foot. She looked down and found a smooth, round stone resting there. With little more than a glance at the Doctor, Rose picked up the rock, aimed it at one of the attacking goblins’ heads, and threw it. It collided with a spiked helmet on one of the goblins, causing it to rotate around, and block the wearers’ view. The goblin yelped, suddenly blinded. It flailed its stick around haphazardly, striking an accomplice. Rose smiled at the impact, and she could have sworn that the orange creature was looking directly at her. It emitted another howl, and suddenly another rock rolled toward Rose’s foot. She happily picked it up. 

The Doctor, who had been watching this encounter with great attention, lightly grabbed Rose’s wrist, stopping her from another throw. “Hey,” he said, his tone a bit stern. For a moment, she thought he would lecture her about the cyclical destruction of violence, or something Doctorish like that. However, his expression morphed into a cheerful grin as he plucked the rock from her hands, and chucked it at another one of the goblins. 

It banged on impact, knocking another helmet around. Soon the goblins were in a panicked frenzy, hitting one another with their sticks, unable to distinguish friend from foe. “Retreat!” one of them yelped, scurrying away through an opening back in the hedge maze. The others quickly followed, the sounds of their skirmish vanishing into the bushes. 

Once they were all gone, Rose and the Doctor stepped toward the orange creature, who was moving wildly, trying to free itself from the tree. 

“I’d be careful there!” Hoggle warned, but he still followed his friends. “Goblins ain’t the biggest fan of touch.” 

Rose ignored him, moving an arm to calm the orange goblin. It jolted at contact, swiping an arm combatively at her. 

“Hey,” she defended, moving out of harm's way. “Stop that.” 

The orange creature suddenly froze, confused by Rose’s gentle tone. The Doctor twisted his lips, studying it closely. “Is that any way to treat someone who’s trying to help you?” he asked, his demeanor patient. “Don’t you want us to let you down?”

“Ludo down,” the creature moaned, its eyes watering.  

“Ludo?” asked Rose, tilting her head to make the conversation easier for him. “Is that your name?” She reached forward and scratched his under neck.

“Ludo,” he replied in affirmation, eyes drooping at her touch. 

The Doctor took the chance to do the same, scratching behind Ludo’s ears. Ludo’s tail wagged at the attention. “Oh, you poor boy. We’ll help you down.” 

Hoggle stayed back, wary. “Hey now,” he said, unwilling to approach the beast. “You don’t know what that thing will do.” 

“Look at him,” the Doctor gestured toward Ludo, who groaned softly. “He’s harmless.” 

Ludo continued to struggle with his binds, causing Rose to look for the source of the rope. She found it at the root of the tree. Kneeling, she began to untie it. “Hold on just a second.” Rose managed to release the ropes, resulting in Ludo unceremoniously plopping to the ground. 

“Oh!” she yelped, a wave of guilt washing over her. “I’m so sorry.” Rose jumped up to help Ludo sit up, but the Doctor was already on it. 

“Are you hurt Ludo?” asked the Time Lord, helping the great beast sit up. The goblin shook his head in answer, much to Rose’s relief. 

“Oh he’s fine,” answered Hoggle, scoffing. “Big ol’ thing like him? Hardly a scratch I bet.” 

Ludo panted, recovering from his blow to the ground. As soon as he caught his breath, he looked around at the two humans, and one goblin standing around him. “Friends?” he asked, giving them puppy dog eyes. The goblin spoke in a sluggish, childlike way. His words were short but drawled out. It reminded Rose of the way Mia sounded when she first started to learn how to speak. 

“That’s right Ludo,” said Rose, smiling warmly. She reached over and petted his side. The goblin welcomed the touch, his tail wagging again. “I’m Rose, this is the Doctor, and that’s Hoggle.” She pointed at each person in the group. 

The Doctor happily waved. “Pleased to meet you Ludo.”

Hoggle stared at the ground uncomfortably. “Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively. “Nice to meet ya.” 

“Oh come Hoggle,” said the Doctor, encouraging the goblin to come closer with a wave. “How hard is it to make another friend?”

“Considering I just made my first two, a bit,” he answered, honestly. However, the goblin walked over to Ludo, acknowledging him with a faint head bow. 

Ludo smiled, baring his fanged teeth happily. With a groan, he pushed himself up and stood. Rose’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she took in the full height of the creature. Ludo was at least seven heads taller than her, but he was the epitome of a gentle giant. “Rose, Doctor, and Hoggle, friends?” he seemed to ask himself. However, he must have answered it in his head, because he soon came charging toward the group, merrily stomping his feet on the ground. “Friends!”

“Woah there, Ludo,” said the Doctor, raising out his hands to keep some distance. “I’m all for a good hug, but can I ask you a question?” 

Ludo bobbed his head back, confused. “Wha?”

“Do you know how to get to the castle at the center of the labyrinth?” The Doctor raised his brows, hoping for the preferred answer. Rose certainly shared that thought. 

“Uh,” Ludo narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. He swayed his head toward the castle, taking it in, then swung it back to the group. He opened his mouth, as if about to give good news. Sadly, his mouth snapped closed, then reopened to say: “No.” He dropped, disappointed in himself. 

That wasn’t what Rose hoped for, but she didn’t hold it against Ludo. “Oh that’s alright,” she told Ludo, patting his arm. “I doubt anyone here really does.” Ludo shook his head in agreement. 

“Well, regardless, you’re welcome to come along with us,” offered the Doctor, hands in his pockets. 

Hoggle scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? Big ol dumbo over here?” 

The Doctor paused at Hoggle’s choice of words. “You know,” he said, looking at the goblin, “you’d get along with my friend Donna.” 

“More friends!” Ludo yelped, tossing his arms up playfully.

“That’s right,” said the Doctor, adopting a sort of baby voice. He went over and started to scratch Ludo again, whispering conspiratorially at him. 

Hoggle leaned over to Rose. “This a habit of his?” he asked, his voice hushed. “Picking up strays?” 

Rose took in the sight of Ludo and the Doctor, already thick as thieves. For all the pain and betrayal he’d endured, the Doctor never failed to think the best of a person, robot, animal, or goblin in need. He thought of the best in others, even if he didn’t think of it in himself. 

“Yes,” she said, her expression relaxed. “Yes, he does.” A flash of conflicting emotions stung her body. Seeing him like this, acting so kind to a creature more than half his size, put her in grave danger. It reawakened those selfish wishes of hers.

She had wished to be with him, to have another chance, and she’d gotten it. Perhaps not in the way she intended, but Rose got it. When this was all over and done with, when the labyrinth was solved and the children were home safe, she wasn’t sure she could let him, and the adventures he brought, go. 

And that was a treacherous thought indeed.

Chapter Text

“Should I kiss the viper's fang?

Or herald loud the death of Man?

I'm sinking in the quicksand of my thought

And I ain't got the power anymore”

- David Bowie, “Quicksand”

********

The more time the Doctor spent with Rose, the more desperate he was to catch her alone. Despite his best efforts to keep those irksome emotions at bay, the dam was bound to break. Whether it was the throb in his head, or the pounding of his hearts, something deep inside him was itching to do the right thing. 

While the Doctor considered love one of his greatest strengths, it was also his greatest weakness. Love made him fight for Gallifrey amidst the fires of war, sit down with the Noble family’s nightly dinner, or show a girl from London a sunrise at Women Wept. But love also made him do terrible things. He erased Donna Noble’s memories out of love. He unraveled Clara Oswald’s death, a fixed point in time, out of love. And of course, he left Rose Tyler on Bad Wolf Bay out of love. 

Their time had passed. Rose had a family, a child, a husband, and a home. The Doctor was desperately trying to remind himself of the fact every time he caught her gaze. Yet, what Rose said in the oubliette had stuck with him. She was happy, and still, she wanted more. She wanted him. That was a problem even he couldn’t solve, especially when his feelings matched hers. 

He was supposed to be better at this, living through his emotions. His other incarnation said as much after bi-generation. 

“I'm fine because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords. We're doing rehab out of order.”

But fixing himself was far from a simple task. Millions upon millions of years living would do a number on anyone. There was also the matter of the labyrinth, a rather useful excuse, and excuses were easy to find when you were as crisis-friendly as the Doctor. Plus, he and Rose had picked up more than a few friends during their time in the maze. The Doctor was appreciative of the help, of course. But that did make for a convenient means to avoid private conversation. 

“Er,” a grumbled voice tolled, “what are you looking at?” 

The Doctor blinked, gathering his thoughts. Oh, he realized, seeing that he’d been staring at a stone wall for…however long he was lost in his mind. “Um, nothing,” he said, unconvincingly. “Just having a think.” 

Once united, Rose, the Doctor, Hoggle, and Ludo had sought to find a way to the center. Unfortunately, when the group turned around to head back into the hedge maze, the area had disappeared, replaced by a limestone wall. In other words, they were locked in a dead end. 

“A think eh?” Hoggle pondered, scratching the side of his chin. “Well, at least it gave me a break from all the goo-goo eyes,” 

“I-I don’t make…” the Doctor stuttered, glancing over at Rose. She was chatting with Ludo on the opposite side of the dead end. The orange goblin kept trying to scale the wall in front of him. His claws pounded at the flat stone as Rose’s bright laugh carried. 

Hoggle chuffed, shaking his head at the Doctor’s non-answer. “Ain’t even subtle about it.” 

Ignoring that remark, the Time Lord shifted his gaze back to the wall in front of him. To his astonishment, he was met with an entirely new sight: an extended path, at the end of which laid a structure. Barely taller than the Doctor’s height, and with doors just large enough to accommodate him, it was carved from smooth, white stone. It looked similar to a mausoleum. The Time Lord didn’t love the implication of that. 

“That’s quite creepy,” said the Doctor, still unsettled by the mysterious shifts of the labyrinth. He looked to Hoggle for a clue. The goblin appeared equally intrigued by this shift in the maze’s structure. “Does everyone have to deal with this?” 

“The labyrinth ain’t the same for everyone. It changes depending on who’s running,” said Hoggle, glancing around their new terrain with a skeptical eye. 

The Doctor tightened his jaw. He hated the sound of that. “And what does that mean for us?” 

Hoggle’s wrinkles creased as his lips went tight. “Well, if it hasn’t already, expect it to get personal.” 

A brush of wind wove through the Doctor’s coat. The ends of it gently lifted. Choosing not to respond to Hoggle, he signaled to Rose and Ludo that a new way out had appeared. “Come see this,” he called. 

Rose’s lips creased at the sight. “Not creepy at all.” 

“What I said,” the Doctor mused. 

The wind picked up in gusto once again. The Doctor watched Rose’s blonde hair fly madly about, strands waving into her face, which she quickly brushed off. A chill ran through his body at the sight. “Right then,” he said curtly, turning to the mausoleum. However, his mouth quickly went agape when he found the entry was no longer unoccupied. 

There, perched on the steps leading up to the doors, was a white barn owl. Considering its blue and brown eyes, the Doctor recognized that it was the same one that had stolen his screwdriver earlier. “Oh,” he said, genuinely surprised. “It’s you. Hello there.”

The owl clicked, shuffling its wings as if in greeting. Rose’s forehead creased, intensely curious. “Didn’t expect to be seeing you again,” she said, stepping closer to the doors. However, as she attempted to take a step up, the owl hissed intensely. Rose backed off, likely trying to avoid getting a nip from that beak. “Alright!” she said defensively, holding her hands up. “Easy! Easy.”  

Growing mad with fever, the owl continued to squawk, flapping its wings in warning. The behavior was animalistic but somehow controlled. “I think it doesn’t want us to go there,” the Doctor easily concluded, looking at the large doors above the steps. 

The owl shrieked again as if confirming. It flared up its wings in an offensive stance. “Oh stop that, would ya?”  Hoggle tried to step closer and shoo it away, but that earned him a bite on the hand once he got too close. “Oh damns you!” yelped the goblin. 

But the owl continued squealing, quite loudly at that. The Doctor watched it closely, deciphering if it was genuinely trying to stop them from entering the building. After all, this labyrinth was full of false warnings. The owl also stole his sonic earlier, a crime which the Time Lord was still annoyed by. 

“Maybe it wants us to leave,” he observed, her forehead furrowed in contemplation. 

“Where else are we supposed to go?” Rose asked, tossing her arms out. The Doctor wasn’t sure if the owl understood. However, Rose was right about this mausoleum being their only option. All other paths were blocked off, and he wasn’t inclined to climb up Ludo to scale a wall. 

The owl’s mismatched eyes dimmed, the color becoming less vibrant. It twisted its neck left and right to investigate. Once it realized that this place was, truly, a dead end, the bird bowed its head. Its body twitched as if irritated. Then, it flew up with a ceremonious flush, its wings flapping away from the group. The owl disappeared from the Doctor’s sight, leaving the mausoleum unguarded. 

“Oh,” sounded the Doctor, his tone puzzled, “that was…strange.” 

“I ain’t think that word means the same here as it does in your world,” said Hoggle, chuckling a bit. The goblin heeded no signal from the group, deciding to charge up the stairs and try to pry open the doors to the tomb. He struggled for a while, groaning as he pushed against a stone. His little feet kicked at the ground for momentum. 

“No shame in asking for help Hoggle,” the Doctor shouted, shooting a sly grin at Rose. 

“Oh just give me a second!” screamed back the goblin, unwilling to admit defeat. 

Ludo turned his head back and forth between Hoggle, the Doctor, and Rose. Without so much as a word, he swayed over to Hoggle’s spot, kindly nudged the smaller goblin out of the way, and effortlessly pushed open the stone doors. “Ludo help!” he proudly declared, his fangs shining in the midday light. 

“Oh good on you,” the Doctor said with the same enthusiasm as a primary school teacher. He and Rose walked up to the open doors. “Always great to have everyone pitch in.” 

Hoggle seemed to be having none of it. “I started it,” he mumbled under his breath. 

Rose rested a hand on the small goblin’s shoulder. “We know,” she said kindly, bowing her head a bit. “Thank you.” Hoggle smiled a little at that. 

Now that the entrance was unblocked, the Doctor investigated the opening. Pressing his hand against the smooth stone, he had to kneel to get a closer look inside. The faint glow of a candle shone from within, but the rest of the interior was muddled with darkness. He looked at Rose, raising a brow. “Fancy a stroll inside?”

“Might as well,” she said, resting a hand against the structure. “Whatever’s waiting for us in there can’t be half as bad with four of us. 

“Er, hate to break it to you two,” Hoggle said worriedly, “but there’s a problem.” He gestured toward Ludo, whose large stature would never be able to squeeze through the entrance. 

“Oh,” plopped the Doctor, annoyed that he didn’t realize that sooner, “that does pose a challenge.” 

“Think you can force yourself in, ya big lump?” Hoggle asked, his tone a mixture of irritation and envy as he pinched the wrinkles on his forehead. The Doctor figured the goblin was a bit size-conscious. 

“Ludo…Ludo not go in?” said the orange goblin slowly, not quite understanding. He twitched his arms and legs, as if taking notice of his large body mass for the first time. 

Rose’s expression went soft. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing one of his furry arms, “but I don’t think you can.”

Hoggle planted his hands on his hips. “So what then? We just stand here and wait for something to happen?” 

Although a last resort, the Doctor made a bold suggestion. “We could…split up,” he said, carefully. The Time Lord was uncertain if he even liked the idea, but he was just wishing for the chance to capture Rose alone again. Funny thing, this labyrinth was. It was like the puzzles were reordering themselves to match his thoughts. Likely bad, but it could work to their advantage, or so thought the Doctor. 

Rose pondered the idea, staring at the small opening to the mausoleum. “I suppose we could,” she agreed, pulling at her fingers in contemplation. 

“We’ll just pop in to see if anything useful is inside, and then be right back out,” the Doctor said to Hoggle. 

The goblin scrunched his brow. “Why you telling me?” 

“Well,” the Doctor began to say, trailing off to peep at Ludo. 

Hoggle soon caught on, issuing a groan once he did. “What? I’m supposed to play babysitter?” 

“It’ll just be for a little while,” said Rose, cringing a bit at the need to ask. 

The Doctor screwed his face in a frown. He wasn’t sure if leaving the goblin behind was right, but it wasn’t like they had the strength to push Ludo into a tiny space. Their orange friend probably weighed the same as an anvil. “I think it’s a nice idea,” he conceded. “We shouldn’t have to force Ludo to squeeze. Might dislocate something.” 

Hoggle glanced back at Ludo, who was currently picking at his earlobe. The orange goblin smiled widely once he found a bundle of earwax, sniffing it, and then showing it off to the group. “Er, do I have to?” asked Hoggle. His face was painted with disgust.

“Consider it an exercise in expanding your friendship network,” said the Doctor, shrugging. “Never a bad idea to have the muscle on your side.” 

The goblin exhaled, lowering his head in defeat. “‘Suppose so.” 

“That’s settled then.” Rose settled into an uncomfortable smile, which she shared with the Doctor. Suddenly more aware of his appearance, he straightened the cuffs of his shirt, cleared his throat, and held out a hand to her. She took it, returning to that familiar pattern of adventure. 

“Ludo sorry.” The orange goblin dipped his head in shame. 

“Oh that’s alright,” said the Doctor, trying not to squeeze Rose’s hand too hard. “Hoggle will be on alert. Keep you both out of trouble”

“That I will,” said the goblin, crossing his arms, but self-assured in his duty. Hoggle had to tilt his head all the way up to make eye contact with Ludo, who appreciatively beamed at his smaller friend. 

Confident in the goblins’ safety, the Doctor ducked his head under the small crevice of the stone mausoleum’s opening, guiding Rose into the structure. Her footsteps closely followed his, her pace innately trusting in his leadership.

As the pair vanished from sight, a keen pair of blue and brown eyes kept a close watch. The owl’s gaze surveyed the scene from above, and seeing that its objects of interest had disappeared, returned into the bright, blue sky. 

********

The Doctor’s favorite part about new companions was hearing their reaction to the TARDIS. No matter the city or century he found them in, they always spoke the same words. Now, having entered the labyrinth’s manifested tomb, he had the privilege of uttering them himself. “Oh wow,” the Doctor said, taking in his surroundings, “it’s bigger on the inside.” 

Despite its humble exterior, the Doctor and Rose had stepped into a grand hallway. Extravagant red curtains and carpets decorated the marble walls and floors. Golden candelabras were perched on halved stone columns, illuminating the path forward. The Doctor was struck by the luxurious room, especially compared to how humble the exterior building was. Rose seemed to agree with him. Her face displayed wonder at the vision of it all. Above them hung an exquisite chandelier, its clear crystals turning orange from the flames below. The Doctor felt uneasy at the sight of it. Around him, chandeliers had a habit of breaking. Beautiful, delicate things were easy to destroy. 

“I don’t know about you,” Rose said, her gaze warily searching the room for a threat, “but I hate this place already.” 

“Strong instincts,” agreed the Doctor, allowing himself a tighter grip on her hand. To his gratification, she seemed to appreciate it, judging by her relaxed expression. 

Hand in hand, the Doctor and Rose walked down the hall, which expanded in length as they moved forward. With every step, the room stretched, making it impossible to reach the end. The Doctor wasn’t a fan of haunted houses, but this was certainly a key feature. And the room didn’t just expand in size, because the Doctor took notice of new decorations gracing the walls. 

Large canvases, adorned with golden frames, hung throughout. They stretched head to toe from the floor to the roof. Several now adorned the room, continuing to its apparition of an ending. Large stone columns separated each frame, which each depicted a different landscape. Whether these landscapes were paintings or photographs, the Doctor couldn’t tell. He let go of Rose’s hand for a moment to investigate one. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on. 

“I almost forgot you had those,” Rose commented, rubbing the sides of her arms. “You never use them.” 

The Doctor shot her a confused look. “Really? I use them all the time.” 

While not immediate, her face reddened. “Oh god, sorry,” Rose said, covering her mouth, embarrassed. “I…I got you two confused again.” 

Oh. She meant her husband. The husband…who he looked exactly like. Right. The Doctor’s mouth curled up as a surge of jealousy blossomed. While done unconsciously, he despised that petty reaction of his. It wasn’t her fault she kept mixing them up. Considering she’d spent the last fifteen or so years of her life with the Metacrisis, of course, she’d know more about his habits. The Doctor would never give her guilt for that, but his chest still ached at that reminder. 

It bothered him immensely, how all of his hidden resentments weren’t resolved during their oubliette conversation. Why couldn’t those pesky thoughts leave him in peace? Life would be so much easier if he could just get something off his chest, and be done with it. But the Doctor knew better, and it’d take a hell of a lot more than one conversation to clear the air. But as always, he didn’t want to now. Delay, delay, delay…that’s what he’d do. 

“No harm done,” he said, pursing his lips. To avoid the scrutiny of her gaze, the Doctor fixated on the picture in front of him instead. 

It was eerily lifelike. In a misty swamp, damp trees decorated the scene. Faint traces of glitter clung to the greenery. In the background, the Doctor saw what looked like small, orange fluffballs ducking behind branches. 

Rose lightly gasped. “Is that picture-”

“Moving,” answered the Doctor, adjusting his glasses. Leaning closer for a better look, the Doctor heard the faint sound of crickets. 

He backed up, highly intrigued. “Fascinating,” he whispered. “Utterly fascinating.” In sight and sound, the picture was like looking through a window to the outside. The orange fluff balls the Doctor took notice of earlier emerged from the trees, revealing that they belonged to bony, bird-like goblins. However, the goblins took no notice of the Doctor and Rose, signaling that this was a one-sided view. 

Rose narrowed her eyes. “I remember those things,” she said quietly.

“Were they in the film?” 

“I…I think so. The scene isn’t exactly clear, but I’m sure of it,” she said, hesitantly. 

“At some point,” the Doctor sighed, taking off his glasses, “we’ve got to figure out why you’re having that issue.” 

“What issue?” Rose almost sounded offended. 

“Oh, just your memory problems,” the Doctor blatantly said. “It’s odd. You said Labyrinth was one of your favorites as a child, yet you’ve been struggling to keep up.” 

“I’m not struggling to keep up,” Rose said, her shoulders tense. “I just have a lot on my mind.” 

The Doctor nearly stated that she was actually missing parts of that mind, but decided against it. He already felt worse enough for wear. “I know,” he said, softly as he could. “I’m sorry, just, it’s unfortunate that we’re both going in blind.”

Rose scanned the hall, staring at the dimly lit portraits about. She walked over to the next landscape. A different place was shown in this one. The leaves of willow trees draped over putrid green sludge, which bubbled grossly, emitting the sound of flatulation. “That’s the…bog of eternal stench,” said Rose, finding the words. “I swear that’s what it’s called.”

“Oh, that’s also in the film, is it?” The arrogant side of him disliked that Rose had more context about this world than him, but perhaps it was good to step into her shoes for once. Donna would say that’d do wonders for his ego if she were here. 

“It is,” Rose said, confirming his educated guess. She turned her head left and right, examining the other canvases. “I wonder if these portraits show different parts of the labyrinth.”

“Maybe so,” considered the Doctor. 

Together they strolled forward, glancing at each canvas. They saw the hedge mazes above, the dark shadows of the oubliette, and then the foundation where they first met Hoggle. Every landscape emitted sounds and smells, making for one of the most immersive art exhibits the Doctor had ever been to. 

“This is…so odd,” Rose said, her brow wrinkled in concentration. 

“How so?” The Doctor leaned closer, as if greater physical proximity would help him understand. 

“This gallery,” Rose gestured around the space with her hands, “it isn’t in the film. I swear it isn’t.”

The Doctor paused before responding. He didn’t much like that piece of information. “Well then,” he said, hands shoved in his pockets, “must be one of the Toymaker’s lovely renovations.” Rose hummed in agreement. 

Continuing to explore the gallery, Rose trailed ahead, not waiting for the Doctor. She seemed…closed off. Perhaps he put her off earlier. He hoped he hadn’t offended her, but he had a nasty habit of making people feel inferior just by speaking. Of course, he mucked it all up. For Rassilion’s sake, he thought, we were just cracking jokes and holding hands earlier. The Doctor thought they were past this awareness. Suddenly, Rose stopped in her tracks, her eyes stuck on the picture in front of her. Coming to her side, the Doctor quickly pieced together why when he took in the view. 

White sands, a gray sky, and crashing waves. The smell of salt greeted the Doctor like an old friend or enemy. 

“Bad Wolf Bay,” said Rose, her lips curling into a frown. 

And what a scene it made. All things considered, the beach looked…peaceful, serene even. Places always seemed gloomier when you were losing the love of your life. The Doctor hadn’t even seen the beach the first time he bid goodbye to Rose, but he certainly remembered every damn grain of sand the second. Bad Wolf Bay was the last strand that connected the Doctor and Rose across universes, and also the site of their reunion. If the Toymaker wanted to mess with their minds, he certainly chose the right place.

“These portraits,” said Rose, avoiding the Doctor’s gaze as she grew lost in the scene. “Reminds me of those mirrors. The mirrors to the past.” 

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck, unable to recall. “Mirrors?” 

“You know,” she paused, her mouth agape slightly, “like those ones on that spaceship.” Rose took a deep breath. “The ship with Madame De Pompadour.” 

“Oh,” said the Doctor, the absence of her hand starting to burn. “Yes. Quite right.” 

Rose said nothing in return, opting to wrap her arms tightly around herself. Her fingers dug into the folds of her cardigan. “If it were up to me,” she mumbled, “I never want to see that beach again.”

The Doctor nodded, not disagreeing with her, but also not in full agreement. “I don’t think I’d mind actually,” he shared, hoping he wouldn’t regret it. “Nothing against the place itself, just the situation.” 

“Of course that prick had to frame it,” Rose sighed, moving her hands to the back of her neck. 

“Well, the Toymaker loves to make a show out of my worst mistakes,” said the Doctor grimly, remembering the puppet show he was once forced to endure. Instinctively, his stance went defensive, anticipating his foe to pop out at any moment. But he didn’t, so the Time Lord was left with that other ever-persistent enemy: the memory of all he’d abandoned over the years. 

“I…that…” Rose trailed off. That conjured image of the beach had her in a lull. The Doctor spied her body trembling slightly, and he reached out a hand to comfort her. However, she pulled away, the movement jagged and imprecise. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice growing soft, “it’s not real Rose. Don’t let it get to you.” 

She bit her lip, not immediately answering. The hesitation wasn’t helping the Doctor’s nerves. “But it was real,” she uttered. “And no matter how many times I think back at it, I see you and Donna standing by the TARDIS, ready to leave me behind.” 

“I didn’t want to leave you, Rose,” he defended, trying to sound as sympathetic to her feelings as he could. “I thought…I thought we talked about this.” 

“We did,” Rose said, closing her eyes. “I just wish you gave me a choice.” 

The Doctor turned to face her better, leaning his head down. “There wasn’t much time, Rose. The walls were closing. Believe me, I would have stayed longer if I could.” 

“Yes, but you still chose for me.” Her eyes remained snapped shut. 

“What do you even mean by choice?” The Doctor shook his head, confused. 

“My choice. I wanted to go home, Doctor.” Rose snapped open her eyes, meeting his gaze. “My world, the place I grew up in. The TARDIS, you, all the traveling. I fought for that, fought for you. And I’ll never get to experience that again, because you made the choice.” 

“I know you said you wanted more, Rose,” said the Doctor, growing increasingly frustrated by the conversation. “But you don’t have a bad life. You said it was good. I wanted to give you that. A good life, with another me. You would have regretted losing that chance. Believe me.” 

“Stop talking like you know better,” Rose scoffed. “Even if that were true, I could have found that out myself.”

“And what?” A barb overcame the Doctor, and he couldn’t help but let it out. “You’d trade your husband and Mia for a life with me?” 

Rose's lips twitched, her brows narrowing. “No,” she said, sternly. “Of course, I wouldn’t.” 

“What then?” The Doctor knew he was being cruel, but still, he spoke. “Because that was the past. We can’t go back.”

“Says the man with a time machine,” Rose exhaled, rolling her eyes.

“Rose, please,” he said, taking his hands out of his pockets to shake them. “Stop this. You and I can’t do anything to change what happened.” 

Absorbing his words, she straightened her posture. “That’s not true,” she said, curtly. “We can change it. Right now.”

“And how exactly?” The Doctor jutted his head forward, their faces coming closer. 

“Tell me what you were going to say on that beach.” Rose’s voice wobbled as she gave the order, but her body remained rigid and defensive. 

The Doctor’s hearts dropped. “Rose,” he said, his mind vexed, “you know what I was going to say.” She did. The Doctor knew she did. 

“I do. I did,” she corrected, blinking hard to draw the memory out. “But…I’d like to hear it. Just once. From you.” Rose reached out and gently grazed the side of his face. The Doctor wanted nothing more than to lean into her touch, but his terrible mind wouldn’t allow it. 

Does it need saying? 

His last words to her. A denial of the wish that hurled her through the void to find him. He didn’t grant it then, but he could now. The softness of her palm against his cheek warmed him. The Doctor screamed at himself to do it. He loved her. He’d loved her even after all this time. All those centuries of regrets could be undone by this moment. Her pleading eyes begged as much. 

But as the windy chill of Bad Wolf Bay breezed out of the landscape beside him, scraping his skin with its iciness, the Doctor’s hearts too grew cold. He had the strength to say those words. Of course, he did. But he didn't have the strength to deal with the consequences. If the Doctor finally told her, he could see it now: their lips would meet, and their fates would be sealed. She’d be forced to choose between leaving him, an inevitable decision, or returning to her family, in the universe where she now belonged. Both couldn’t coexist, or else entire dimensions would crumble with the weight of that task. 

And even more terrible, he wasn’t sure he could stomach losing her again, not if he’d finally achieved what he’d been after. The Doctor had wished for another chance to speak with her. This was it, his dream, and he would squander it. All he had left to give was guilt for dreaming. 

“Doctor?” Rose tenderly rubbed the side of her thumb against his cheekbone, her face hopeful. 

The Doctor raised his hand to grasp hers, and instead of tightening the hold, softly removed it from his face. “I can’t,” he said his eyes boring into hers. “I just can’t.” 

Rose’s eyes watered slightly, her gaze shifting down. She nodded in dismay, her hand now falling to her side, free of its grip on the man she loved. “Quite right,” she said, a sad smile on her lips.“I think I ought to go.” She shifted her head, staring at the pale candlelights throughout the space. “This gallery…it's messing with my head.” Rose straightened her shoulders, exhaling. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she brushed past the Doctor, not looking back as she walked toward the entrance of the mausoleum. 

In another time, the Doctor would have followed, but he knew his place now. It was here, in the brassy glow of a tomb, surrounded by windows to another world. The Time Lord Victorious, alone.

Chapter Text

“I spoke into his eyes

‘I thought you died alone

A long, long time ago’

‘Oh no, not me

I never lost control

You're face to face

With the man who sold the world’”

- David Bowie, “The Man Who Sold the World”

********

Silence was the Doctor’s most steadfast companion. Standing atop the roots of mistakes, he embraced quiet, drifting into a peaceful lull. Nowhere possessed more silence than a tomb. This mausoleum was no exception. When Rose walked away, the Doctor’s mask could be removed. Always saving face, he was. The problem was he felt too deeply to convince himself of the disguise. 

One last time, his lifeless eyes took in the image of Bad Wolf Bay. Grains of sand wisp away, the wind carrying them to unknown terrain. Blue waves crashed against the Norwegian shore. And then there was the sky: forever colorless and drab. The perfect backdrop to scenes of anguish. Rose was right, he never wanted to step foot there again. 

The Doctor turned his back to the framed landscape. Sighing, he pulled out his screwdriver. He let the tool rest in his hand for a moment. Turning the metal instrument over his palm, the Doctor’s sense of uselessness pervaded him. He was too damn dependent on the thing. The Doctor’s mind was advanced enough to do well without it. This labyrinth was a test of that. But of course, this sonic had a few more tricks. 

Briefly scanning the room with his sonic, the Doctor took note of the readings. He pressed a button and drew a rectangular shape in the air. A holographic image was conjured. It was a blueprint of the gallery space, with a slideshow feature of each canvas they’d passed so far. He put his glasses back on to read the findings. If Donna were here, she’d make him laugh by saying something like, “Why the bloody hell didn’t you do that earlier?” 

Oh Donna, he thought, guilt overcoming him. Her daughter was dragged across universes, and she couldn’t do a thing about it. The responsibility was in his, and Rose’s hands, alone. Did Donna know her child was missing? That he was too? He was certainly in for a righteous lecture once he got home. 

He used the holograph’s touch screen to flip through the landscapes. The Doctor had a theory about their lifelike properties but tried not to get his hopes up too much. Closing down the holograph, the Doctor put away his sonic and glasses. He certainly wasn’t going to use Bad Wolf Bay as his test subject, so he moved to a less familiar picture. This one depicted a massive junkyard. From children’s toys to car parts, the place was littered with discarded treasures. It would have to do. 

Braving himself, the Doctor reached out a hand. When his skin should have made contact with a hard surface, the Doctor passed through. He smiled at the proof of his theory. Feeling bold, the Doctor ducked his head forward into the landscape and found himself in the image itself. This painting wasn’t a painting at all. It was a portal to another location, likely one in the labyrinth. 

The Doctor was careful not to step fully through. He wasn’t sure if entering a canvas would be a one-way trip. The risk wasn’t worth it. Excited to share his discovery, he almost spoke aloud to Rose, before remembering her absence. Right, he’d upset her. The Doctor exhaled, rubbing his forehead. It was best he did something about that before she felt any worse. 

But then, he heard the steady sound of clapping. “Brava, Time Lord,” said a German-accented voice, instantly stiffening the Doctor’s shoulders. “You solved my little puzzle.”

The noise came from behind the Doctor, but he didn’t have a strong urge to turn. Instead, he gritted his teeth. “Do you ever get tired of this?” 

A pause, then a giggle. “Of toying with you? Please,” he chuckled. Against a cool marble floor, the Toymaker’s leather boots made a clicking noise as they inched closer to the Doctor. “The thing about being banished from existence is that things get rather boring quickly. I was desperate for something fun after all that misery.” 

“And yet you still managed to crawl right back,” the Doctor sighed, opting to just face the creature. The Toymaker’s outfit had changed again. He wore the same tights and jacket as before but now accessorized himself with a long, black cape. 

“Yes, but not without help.” The Toymaker sneered, a familiar expression, but something about the one he bore now especially irked the Doctor. Probably had a trick up his sleeve.

“Why come here? Of all places?” The Doctor threw up his hands in frustration. “I mean, it’s chaos, so of course you’d like it, but why?” 

Twirling his fingers, the Toymaker summoned one of those dreadful crystal orbs. “I once called your beloved Earth,” he spat the word like a curse, “the ‘ultimate playground.’ What a ridiculous sentiment. This labyrinth is more my speed.” 

The Doctor suspected he wouldn’t get actual answers out of this conversation, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. Hoggle had mentioned a name earlier, one of great regard.  “I’ve heard tell of someone called Jareth. A goblin said he was king around here. Seems you’re keen to take his place.” 

The Toymaker stilled at the name. Momentarily, he appeared unsettled, afraid even. The expression soon passed, but the Doctor made careful note. Interesting, he thought. “Jareth is,” the Toymaker bit his lower lip, contemplating, “indisposed at the moment.”

Dead, more likely. However, if that were true, the Doctor was sure the Toymaker would be gloating in that victory. “Indisposed how?”

A smirk graced the Toymaker’s face. “He made a wish, we played a game, and he lost,” he said, morphing his accent to British. 

The Doctor curled his lips. “A wish?”  

“Wishes are currency here.” The Toymaker walked a few paces closer, his cape swooshing behind him. “This universe works differently from yours. What you might call magic,” he said, swiveling his hand for effect, “I call reality. My win has lent me…certain powers.” 

As if the Toymaker needed more matter-altering abilities. There was a story hidden in his veiled words. A long, irritating one that the Toymaker would love to drone on and on about. The Doctor wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “And what of its people? What do they have to say about your being king? What you might call fun,” the Doctor mimicked the Toymaker’s gesture, “I call an invasion.” 

The Toymaker rolled his eyes. “They’ve hardly noticed. Trust me.”

“Even so,” replied the Doctor, crossing his arms, “it doesn’t give you the right to lay claim.” 

“Ugh,” groaned the Toymaker, “you and your semantics.” He snapped his right finger and an identical orb appeared. Then, the juggling started. All he needed was that gaudy toyshop, and he’d be right at home. “While I rather like my castle, it’s a bit drab. Needed to step out and stretch my legs.” 

“Just get the point,” seethed the Doctor. The longer the Toymaker stalled, the more time the Doctor was apart from Rose. While he was grateful she wasn’t here to deal with the taunting, he didn’t want her out of sight for too long. No one should have to wander the halls of this tomb alone. The best the Doctor could hope for was that she had found her way out, and was reunited with Hoggle and Ludo above. 

“Well, I thought I could extend the courtesy to my special guests.” The Toymaker stopped juggling, grasping an orb in his left and right hand. He cockily tilted his head. “Aren’t I generous?”

The Toymaker threw one of the orbs toward the Doctor, barely giving the Time Lord enough time to react. He braced for impact on his chest, certain he would be knocked back by the force, but the push never came. Instead, the orb shattered into a brilliant storm of glitter, and the Doctor suddenly felt two warm, solid arms wrapped around his torso. 

Glancing down, he saw a mess of curly brown hair. The face they belonged to was buried in his chest. She was panting, her heartbeat racing against his. It took merely a second for the Doctor to realize who she was. His niece looked up at him, alarm in her eyes. “Doctor,” she said, her voice sounding hoarse.

“Rose Noble.” The Doctor spoke her name in disbelief. She was safe. She was here. The Toymaker had just given her back. That fact alone made the Doctor incredibly wary. To test if she was real, he placed a hand against her shoulder, pushing her back a bit. “Are you hurt? What has he done to you.”

“I’m fine, Doctor,” Rose insisted, breathing heavily. “Don’t worry about me.” 

Ever noble, Rose lived up to her namesake. Of course she’d be more concerned about someone other than herself. Donna raised her right. The Doctor cupped the side of her face. “Rose, I’m getting you out of here. I swear on my life.” 

“Willing to rip yourself in half again?” The Toymaker barked a laugh. 

“Doctor, don’t listen to him.” His niece’s eyes shone with fear, yes, but also purpose. Her hands firmly grasped the lapels of the Doctor’s jacket. She was trying to warn him, grasping at him like her life depended on it. “Whatever he’s about to do don-” 

And as quickly as she appeared, Rose Noble vanished. Her body exploded into another burst of glitter, and where she stood, a crystal ball now lay. Before the Doctor had the chance to grab it, the orb rolled back toward the Toymaker, who gleefully summoned it back into his hold. “There we are,” he said, smiling at his prize. 

“Stop this,” the Doctor practically barked, his fists barreled. She was right in his hands. Right bloody there. And that monster stole her again. “Whatever vendetta you have against me, you leave my niece out of this!” 

“Oh stop. I was just giving her a breath of fresh air,” said the Toymaker, his eyes mockingly sincere. The Doctor had the intense urge to sock that expression right off his face. “It’s rather murky in the castle tower.” 

The Doctor’s face crinkled with rage. He may have taken a sabbatical from TARDIS adventures, but the Time Lord was always prepared to unleash his fury on those deserving. With one more trick like that, the Doctor’s control would snap, and no one could stop him. 

The Toymaker looked off to the side, noticing the absence of one Rose Tyler. “I see that delightful little friend of yours has gone off,” he said, frowning. “Such a pity. I was rather looking forward to her reaction.” 

The Doctor’s face twitched, disturbed by every word that came out of that foul man’s mouth. “Reaction to what, exactly?” 

“You’re a family man now, yes? Then I’m sure you’ll love this,” the Toymaker declared, tossing the orb up. 

For a split second, the Doctor expected his niece to appear again. Instead, the orb delicately floated in the air, broke into pieces, and a shimmering figure emerged. The figure was a human—a young, female human—who fell on the floor. She yelped as her body made an impact with the cool marble. Her arms scrambled for something to steady her, blonde hair waving around as she did so. The girl looked up and joined eyes with the Doctor. Due to her features, he almost thought it was Rose Tyler. The scene was eerily reminiscent of their reunion on Bad Wolf Bay, when the Toymaker first dragged them into this mess. 

And the girl looked so much like Rose, that it was no wonder the Doctor confused the two. But no. It wasn’t Rose Tyler. Not at all. This girl was unknown to him. Her blue eyes and panicked face stirred no sign of recognition. Yet…there was something about her that felt innately dear. 

All it took was a single word to make the world fall down. Tears staining her face, the girl spoke: “Dad?” 

The word hit the Doctor like a bullet. Dad?  “I-I’m not,” he started to say as an instinctual defense. This girl couldn’t be his. He had children before, but she couldn’t be one of them. That is… unless…oh no, the Doctor registered. 

This was Mia Tyler. Rose’s Tyler’s daughter. The metacrisis’ daughter. And by a strange, cosmically twisted technicality…she was the Doctor’s daughter too. From the bridge of her nose to the shape of her eyes, Mia’s features were the perfect blend of her mother and father. 

A child. His child. He had lost all the others in the Last Great Time War. Images of their faces flashed through his mind, assaulting him with the pain of the losses. He even recalled Jenny—his daughter for a day—and how her body grew lifeless as she died in his arms. 

Mia was beautiful. One of the most marvelous sights he’d ever beheld. And that was because of one powerful, damning fact: she was the product of an unconditional love, a love that tested the boundaries of time and space. Here mere existence was proof that for as much as the universe tore them apart, Rose Tyler and the Doctor had found each other. 

The Doctor wouldn’t trade his family, the Noble family, for the world. They were his whole heart. But now…seeing Mia Tyler in front of him, he wasn’t sure whether to cry or to curse the universe for denying him the chance to have her in his life. He wanted it all. Rose, the TARDIS, the Nobles, and Mia. After all he’d sacrificed, didn’t he deserve that? But as grand of a dream that was, it could never be. Would never be. Because Mia Tyler was also a startling reminder that her mother had moved on from the Doctor. Mia was a new adventure, the one the Doctor could never have. 

And that broke his hearts. 

“Dad, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you have to help me,” begged Mia, her body trembling. 

The Doctor’s face drooped, sorrow engulfing his features. “Mia…I-I’m not your father,” he admitted, uttering the sentence with grave caution. 

“What do you mean?” Mia’s shoulders were hunched, confused, and terrified all at once. “Dad, please. Please help me.” 

As much as it hurt to do so, the Doctor carefully stepped toward Mia. The Toymaker didn’t even react, content to watch this disastrous scene play out on the sidelines. The Doctor kneeled to meet Mia’s gaze. “I know you think I’m your father, but I’m not.”

“H-how?” Mia's eyes searched the Doctor’s face for an explanation, but she found none. “Dad, please don’t say that. Where…where’s mum?” 

“Your mother is safe.” The Doctor spoke with the even calmness of a practiced parent. Even if he wasn’t sure of the truth of his statement, an admission of that would only further hurt Mia. “But Mia,” he said, his eyes gentle, “I need you to know something, alright?” 

In the Doctor’s peripheral vision, he spied the Toymaker’s head leaning forward, keenly interested. “Know what?” asked Mia, her focus entirely on the Doctor. 

“No matter what that bastard has in store, there is nothing in this world that will stop me,” he placed a hand on his chest, “or your mother, from finding you. We will get you home safely.” 

Mia opened her mouth to speak but failed to do so. It took a few moments for her to drum up the courage. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” The Doctor shook his head, dismissing the need for her to apologize for anything. “Whatever for?” 

“For not being brave. I…I thought I would be. All those stories you and mum told me, about your adventures,” her vision trailed off to the side, lost in a memory, “I thought I’d be brave enough to face them too. But I-” Mia fisted her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle a cry. “I just can’t.” 

That’s when the Doctor found himself wrapping his arms around Mia, hugging her with the gentleness of a loving father. “Sh,” he hushed, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. As Mia cried into him, the Doctor did his best to keep her steady. An anchor amidst a storm; that’s what he could be. It’s what a father should be. Even if she wasn’t fully his. 

But this scene wouldn’t last. Of course not, for its director had his full. “How very touching,” said the Toymaker, making a heart with his hands. “Sadly, your visitation hours are ending. Back up to the tower for you dear!” The Toymaker clapped, causing Mia to jump. “Say bye to daddy!” He wiggled his fingers, bending down in a taunting manner. 

Mia lifted her face. Her eyes ignited with fear. “No,” she said, shaking her head at the Doctor, “please don’t let hi-” 

But before she could finish her sentence, Mia was frozen in place. Her eyes completely glossed over. And then, without warning, she disappeared. An orb rolled back into the Toymaker’s hand, then vanished from sight. 

“There we are,” declared the Toymaker, dusting off his hands. “We can get back to business as usual.” His words were entirely void of emotion. Even his preferred tone, taunting cruelty, was absent. No, only vague disinterest was emitted from the Toymaker. 

The Doctor’s chest heaved. He placed his hands on his calves, fingers digging into his trousers. Despair embraced him like an old friend. Falling to his knees, the Doctor replayed the moments in his mind. Rose…Mia…gone…just like that. He could scream at the Toymaker. Demand that he return Rose Noble and Mia Tyler to him. But what would be the point? All the Doctor could do was ask one, pitiful question. “Why?” The Time Lord locked eyes with his celestial foe.

“Because it would break you,” the Toymaker said, a steady smile spreading across his face. Hands folded, he took a step into the shadows behind him, and he was gone. 

Ever loyal, silence returned its Time Lord. The Doctor permitted the rare flow of a tear to run down his cheek. To have a glimpse at the life he could have lived, to see the flesh and blood he denied himself, was a devastation. Mia...she would have been his daughter. The knowledge of that was enough to prove the Toymaker right: seeing her had broken the Doctor. 

But there was something the Toymaker didn't account for. The pain on Rose Noble and Mia Tyler's faces was enough to break the Doctor, but the Time Lord was nothing if not an expert at repair. That encounter with the girls gave him an intimate reminder of what was at stake, what was worth fighting for. The Doctor would never raise Mia, and would never live a life alongside Rose Tyler, but mulling a future that could never be wouldn't make them any safer. He had to act. He had to fight. And he couldn't do it alone. 

For all the anguish he felt, if the Doctor believed in one thing, just one thing that would make this all better, he believed in her. 

So the Doctor got on his feet, took a long, deep breath, and set out to find Rose Tyler. 

Chapter Text

“Here I am, not quite dying

My body left to rot in a hollow tree

Its branches throwing shadows on the gallows for me”

- David Bowie, “The Next Day”

********

Golden flickers of candlelight warmed Rose’s shoulders as she fled through the gallery. She brushed past canvas after canvas. Each scene taunted her with visions of another world, but she dreaded none more than the one she left behind. Rose refused to think of Bad Wolf Bay as anything more than it was: a cold, dreary beach. Ye, without fail, it always got to her. 

Abandoned in the deeper halls, the Doctor was far and away now. Rose felt infantilized by her outburst. Nearly over a decade since that fateful day, and she couldn’t let his lack of words go. What did it matter? She had a life with the metacrisis, with Mia, and their little, unassuming flat. Rose was supposed to be eating chips and watching films, not crawling through the depths of a tomb, her cheeks blazing with shame and embarrassment. 

When Rose had grasped the Doctor’s cheek, there was a moment where she thought he’d finally kiss her. A real proper kiss, not like when she was possessed by Cassandra or in the thrall of Bad Wolf. Just the Doctor and Rose, confirming the affection they both knew they felt for one another. Years of dreaming for the press of his lips against hers would be put to an end. There was a time when Rose desired nothing more. 

But the Doctor had pulled away. Maybe that was for the best. Rose was in danger of crossing some unearthly moral boundaries. Her husband was the Doctor, the Doctor was her husband, and yet those two versions of him had gone on to live vastly different lives. Thinking about whether or not a kiss with her husband’s double counted as cheating put her mind through somersaults.

Besides, this Doctor, running the labyrinth alongside her, had centuries more of life on her husband. She couldn’t have been his only love. Other than the Nobles, who else did he have to return home to? Yet, for that one moment when his gaze flicked down to her lips, she dared to dream. 

Putting one foot in front of the other, Rose was determined to get out of this mausoleum. Alas, the labyrinth had other plans. Where there once was a staircase now lay a wretched dead end. 

“Just my luck,” Rose tsked, irritated that the maze's shifting walls extended underground. 

Rose glanced back through the hall she just sped through. Part of her was hopeful that the Doctor would have followed, but it wasn’t fair to expect from him. After all, she did leave in a whir of emotions. 

With little else to interest her, Rose turned her attention to the dreaded canvases. The one closest to her right looked familiar. It was an overlook of the labyrinth, the same one she and the Doctor had gazed over at the start of their adventure. She searched the outline of the maze for some new, miraculous discovery, like a path that led straight to the center. Of course, she found none. 

But her focus was soon captured by another presence: a hushed voice that whispered her name. Rose whipped her head around but found that she was still alone in the gallery hall. 

“Rose,” it murmured again. It was… familiar, at least enough to be worth investigating. Rose followed the sound trail to a canvas on the other side of the room.

Unlike the others she had encountered, this landscape was unknown to her. Vast rolling hills of green lay ahead, the moss dampened by the moist air. Stormy clouds littered the horizon, threatening an onslaught of rain. A thin gust of wind blew through, shifting strands of her hair. Rose heard the call of her name again and was utterly entranced by the sound. She began to form a theory in her head, and feeling bold, she reached out a hand to test it. She was amazed to find that her arm passed fully through the painting, and into the scene it depicted. Rose smiled in awe. The Doctor might be annoyed by magic, but she was charmed by the concept of a world where it existed. 

As the sound of her name returned, Rose lifted her legs over the gilded frame and entered the scene. Her body grew instantly cold as her foot touched the mossy ground. The warmth of the gallery faded in place of an outside chill. Steadying herself, Rose balanced her feet against a rocky, uneven surface. The stormy skyline grew darker, casting a vast shadow over the land. With it came a thick, white fog. It poured over the nearby hillside like a dragon’s breath. Further ahead lay a forest, fit with green leaves and damp trunks. A treble of thunder boomed above her head. Startled, Rose looked back toward the painting she crawled out of. However, her heart stilled when she found only open terrain. 

Rose cursed, rolling her head back in frustration. She should have guessed stepping through would be a one-way trip. The Doctor would have thought of that, but he wasn’t here. No, instead she was left feeling an empty-headed human. So much for Torchwood training, she thought. Years out of the field had made her rusty. Now, she was stuck with no sign of Hoggle, Ludo, or the Doctor in sight. The internal clock in her head ticked louder, each passing second a profound waste. 

She was upset by her talk with the Doctor, but not enough to where she didn’t damn well wish he was by her side now. But Rose didn’t have to spend much longer wallowing over her mistake, for the voice revisited her ears. 

“Rose,” it said. The inflection was intimately familiar. 

But that can’t be right, she thought. It absolutely couldn’t be right. Either the labyrinth was playing tricks on her, or Rose was growing mad. 

At first, the fog was too thick to make out any figure far away. However, Rose narrowed her brows as a murky silhouette finally appeared. It was tall, male, and moving fast. “Who’s that?” she asked, holding out a hand defensively. 

“Like you care.” A distinctly Northern accent spoke. Goosebumps rose on Rose’s arms. She knew that voice anywhere.

Clad in a leather jacket, there he stood. From his broad stature to his large ears, this Doctor was the spitting image of the man she first fell in love with. His blue eyes bore into her, a disapproving expression on his face. “Oh Rose, what did I tell you about wandering off?” 

********

Sonic in hand, the Doctor tried in vain to follow the path that led him and Rose into the gallery. His eyes warily traced the outlines of paintings. Worry blossomed in his chest. For each step he took on the marble floors, there was no sign of Rose Tyler, or the staircase leading back up into the labyrinth. 

The Doctor began to realize the real purpose behind the Toymaker’s torture: to separate the Time Lord from Rose. Every moment spent comforting his niece or Mia was a moment Rose slipped from his grasp. And this was the last place the Doctor wanted her to be alone. 

Walking down the halls, the Doctor tried calling her name. No answer came. Unknown to him, she already answered a call. 

********

“Doctor,” Rose gaped. The Time Lord stared back at her with that hardened stare of his. She knew this was a trick, some nasty trick that the Toymaker or the labyrinth cooked up. But it was also one that instantly got under her skin. 

“Should have known you’d never learn,” he scoffed, arms tightly crossed. The folds of his leather jacket made a creasing noise. “Picked another stupid ape, I did.” 

“I,” she started to speak but found herself tongue-tied. Stupid ape. Rose always hated that phrase. He liked to insult species when he was stressed, but that particular set of words sent her reeling. “Don’t say that,” she said, her lips tight. 

He leaned his head forward, as if amused. “And why not?” 

“Because you’re not real,” Rose said, wrinkling her nose. Her fists tightened on the edge of her cardigan. “The Doctor hasn’t been you for a long time.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Why does that matter?” The Doctor-copy stepped closer to her, and Rose instinctively backed away. “You’ve traveled with so many of me. Aren’t we all the same in the end? At least, that’s how you justify it in your silly little head.” He tapped the side of his skull. “Makes the mourning easier, yes?”

Rose broke eye contact with him, refusing to pay the copy any mind. “I’m not doing this,” she said, firmly. “I’m not playing this game.” 

The Doctor-copy sighed. “Alright then. Have it your way. But maybe you’ll listen to someone else?” 

A strange, deflating noise emitted from where he stood. Rose glanced back up, only to find something far, far worse. 

Because there, standing in the Doctor’s place, was Mia. Her beautiful, lost daughter. And she was fuming. 

“Mia,” Rose practically cried out, reaching forward. However, she shrank back the movements once she remembered to keep her guard up. 

Her daughter’s innocent blue eyes were tainted with fury. “Oh please. Don’t do that. It’s pathetic,” she spat. 

Rose bit her lip. That was cruel. Too cruel. Mia had given her fair share of harsh words to her mother, but not like that. Rose was reminded that this…thing…was an imitation of the Doctor only moments ago. “You’re not my daughter.”

Mia barked in her face. “‘Course I’m not. You lost that one. Gave her up for one last trip with your Time Lord’s copy.” 

It took all of Rose’s willpower not to wrap this imitation of her daughter into her arms. As palpable the anger was, the mere image of her daughter activated a primal, maternal instinct in Rose. “You know that’s not true. Don’t twist the words.” Storm clouds intensified above, the thunder growing louder. 

“I wish I had another chance, a chance to speak with him ,” said the copy, but her voice was identical to Rose’s. It was like a soundbite of the moment had been recorded, with the audio being relayed through Mia. “At least then you might begin to understand. But he’s not here.” It leaned forward for effect, grinning. “You’re stuck with me. ”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” said Rose, feeling the need to defend herself, even against this monster of a child. “My real daughter would know that.” 

“Well pretty soon,” it laughed girlishly, “she won’t be yours at all. She’ll belong to him.”   

The Mia-copy’s eyes rolled unnaturally upward. She raised her hands stiffly above her head, locking them in place. Out of the fog, long black strings emerged, tied to the ends of her hands. Unable to help herself, Rose looked up at the stormy clouds and found the Toymaker staring right back at her. 

He was gargantuan, his proportions stretched out to the height of a six-story building. The lower half of his body was obscured, but his face and torso were visible high above the world. In his hands, he held two wooden stips, attached to the strings that secured the Mia-copy. Lightening banged, flashing a white light across the horizon. 

“Do you like my new puppet Rose? Do you like my fun?” He pursed his lips in satisfaction. 

Panicked, Rose tore her gaze away, turning it back to the Mia copy. She was horrified to discover that its human limbs were replaced with wooden parts. Disturbingly, its head remained flesh, eerily smiling back at its would-be mother. Rose clutched a hand against her mouth as she screamed, but the Toymaker just giggled. 

********

Rose. Rose. Rose. Where are you?! The Doctor frantically moved between canvases, deciphering which she might have passed through. As soon as he ran into the dead end, he knew there was only one way she could have left the gallery, and it was through the scenes. But which one to choose?

********

“Mummy,” the Mia-copy sounded, its mouth plopping down as a ventriloquist dummy might. “Why do you want to leave me?” The voice that sounded out was the Toymaker’s, not Rose’s daughter. 

Rose wouldn’t have it. She looked back at the Toymaker, murder in her eyes. “Stop this! I don’t want that! Not at all!” 

The Toymaker arched an eyebrow. “Not even for your Doctor? Hm,” he titled his shoulder, thinking, “if you don’t enjoy my puppets, then I can think of another way to have fun.” He pulled up the wooden beams, bringing the wooden Mia-copy into the sky. It disappeared into the storm. The Toymaker glared at Rose, unamused that she wouldn’t play the first game. He placed an open palm near his mouth and blew toward Rose. 

A gust of wind hit her, but she soon realized it wasn’t just that. An avalanche of sound came over her, and the pieces of noise she recognized. 

I picked another stupid ape! 

Oh, wait. That was the other Doctor. The one who left you. 

Does it need saying?

Pressing her hands against her ears, Rose tried in vain to silence the verbal assaults. Above her, the Toymaker grinned, then faded away. 

You were fantastic. And you know what? So was I. 

Mum! Please help me! Mum! 

Where have you been? Tell me, sweetheart! Tell me!

The sound of her mother’s pleas sent her over the edge. It was too much. It was all too much. Rose collapsed to the ground, the noise pounding in her head. She yelled, trying to fight back, but she failed. The voices were too strong, too real. 

********

The Doctor was a maniac, entirely sure that Rose was in danger. He whipped out his sonic, desperate for any answer, but failed to find a proper result. Running a hand through his hair, his mind desperately reached for a solution.

But then, he heard the voices, sounding out from a landscape across. 

********

Rose babbled, unable to escape the trap the Toymaker laid upon her. How could she, when each moment was ripped straight from the catalog of her worst memories?  

Humans decay. You wither and you die.

Rose Tyler-

I can’t. I just can’t. 

“Rose!”

That voice sounded different from the others. Less hostile. But still, she wanted nothing more than to remain on the rocky ground, tethering herself to the dirt and decay. 

“Rose! Can you hear me?”’

“Stop,” she cried, her eyes shut tight. She rocked her body back and forth, regressing to childlike motions. 

Something grabbed her shoulder, and Rose screamed, pushing her head up to find the Doctor. It was him, the face of her husband. She wanted him gone. He wasn’t real. He was just a puppet. “Leave me!” she batted a hand at him, willing him to disappear like the other Doctor and Mia copies. 

“Rose,” he said, his voice soft and comforting. His eyes shone with sorrow. “It’s me. It’s just me.” The tone was enough to give her pause. “Look, I’m real. See?” 

He lightly touched her arm, barely grasping the sleeve. His grip was gentle but more importantly, solid. This Doctor was real. It was him. “Doctor?” she asked, her voice hoarse. 

“I’m here,” he said, his expression displaying a range of emotions Rose couldn’t even begin to describe. 

But he didn’t force her to. Instead, he wrapped his arms tight around her. She welcomed the embrace, crying into his shoulder. The voices around her quieted, drowned out by the Doctor’s soothing hush. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m so so sorry.” 

She sensed the intensity of regret with each caress against her arm. The Doctor wasn’t just comforting her, he was apologizing for all that came before. And she was entirely beholden by it. Because he had come for her. He didn’t leave her behind, didn’t move on without her. He came. That alone was enough to kindle her hope for the future. But until then, Rose would just let him hold her, shielding her from the monsters at bay, like she would in return.

Chapter Text

“I, I will be king

And you, you will be queen

Though nothing will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day

We can be heroes, just for one day”

- David Bowie, “Heroes”

********

Rose wasn’t sure how long the Doctor held her for. The voices had faded shortly after he found her, but the Time Lord still hadn’t let go. No, instead she continued to dampen his jacket sleeves with tears, clinging to him like a liferaft. 

“We won’t let him win,” he told her, hands softly placed on the back of her head. The Doctor was so gentle with his touch, careful not to rush her into anything she didn’t openly welcome. 

“He was in my head,” said Rose, raising her head to look at the Doctor. The Toymaker was a man of celestial power, but his presence in the labyrinth had strengthened his abilities. “He was using my own memory against me.” It was horrifying, the power that creature held. 

The Doctor dimly nodded. “He’s done the same to me. Last time we met,” he sighed, “the Toymaker condemned me for all the companions I’ve lost. All the people I’ve let down.” Rose easily read his expression. He considered her as part of that group. 

And for as hurt she was by his words in the mausoleum, Rose’s heart was dismayed by his admission. “Even if that’s true,” she said, carefully, “you’ve always tried. You’ve always fought for us.” 

He smiled lightly, touched by her words, but still unsettled by something else. “Rose, before I found you, the Toymaker,” the Doctor paused, “he showed me the girls. They weren’t tricks. My niece and Mia were real.” 

Rose stilled. “What did he do? My daughter,” she asked, frightened, “is she safe?” 

The Doctor shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that,” he conceded, but seeing the alarm on Rose’s face he quickly corrected his statement. “She’s physically unharmed, but in a lot of distress.”

“And your niece?” Rose asked, his own family not lost on her. She feared for Mia’s safety, but there were more lives at stake than her daughter’s. 

“The same,” the Doctor confirmed, his brow furrowed in worry. 

“Then let’s go,” said Rose, gripping his shoulder in support. “There’s not much time left.” 

She stood up, her jeans stained by the green moss. Rose gave the Doctor a hand, and he took it, raising himself with her. The fog that hid the rest of the area had faded along with the Toymaker. Now, only a faint mist trailed the mossy hills. Stone walls surrounded the area, being less expansive than Rose originally had thought. She could see the outline of the castle in the distance. Miraculously, it looked closer than it had at any other part of the maze. 

“We must be approaching the center,” said the Doctor, echoing her thoughts.“That’s why he intervened. Knows we have a shot at winning.” The two started walking toward a stone wall. Maybe they could try out that trick the worm taught them earlier. It hadn’t done them wrong so far. 

“Of course we do,” Rose said, smiling lightly. There was no point in holding a grudge against what happened earlier. It would only serve to separate them further, and the Doctor and Rose were stronger together. That’s something the Toymaker dearly underestimated. “Any chance Hoggle or Ludo found a way into the gallery? 

“Afraid not,” tsked the Doctor. “I just hope those two can stay out of trouble long enough before they catch up.” 

“Hoggle must be furious,” said Rose, a small, sad laugh escaping her. “Wasn’t too happy about us separating.” 

“And just when he started to like me,” the Doctor exhaled, placing his hands in his pockets. 

The pair had intended to get closer to a wall, but instead, that same, strange fog began to return. Waving at the air, the Doctor tried in vain to make it go away. His efforts proved fruitless, and the pair had to tread on blindly. Rose was careful not to trip on any stray rock or fall into any hidden moss trap. After a few minutes of this, the fog once again dissipated. Rose and the Doctor collectively gaped as their surroundings were made more clear. 

The two were amongst thick oak trees, standing in an alcove. Rose’s foot stood near a stream. The hushed chirp of crickets could be heard over rushing water. Delicate purple flowers blended with the dark green grass. 

“This labyrinth,” said the Doctor, shaking his head in bafflement. 

“Always changing,” said Rose, raising her head to gaze at the color of the sky. It was a darker blue now, signifying that it was late afternoon. Not good, she thought. 

The sound of a twig snapping startled her. Rose snapped her head toward the direction of the sound.

“Hoggle?!” exclaimed the Doctor, who also took notice of their newly arrived goblin friend. 

Looking equally surprised to see the pair, Hoggle’s eyes widened. “You two?” The goblin’s jewel pouch clanked as he stumbled toward the Doctor and Rose. “How in the blazes did you get here?” He threw his hands up, amazed. 

“I could ask the same of you,” quipped the Doctor, smiling earnestly. “Oh Hoggle, how happy I am to see you.” The Time Lord held out his arms, ready to wrap the goblin in a hug. 

Hoggle blinked and stumbled back to escape the risk of the Doctor’s embrace. Wasn’t much for touch, that one. “Er, thanks. It’s uh, good to see you’re both,” the goblin twiddled his thumbs, “alive.” 

“Doing our best,” Rose replied, mutually relieved that he was safe. A large, orange figure emerged from the dark trees, and she beamed as she took stock of their giant goblin friend. “Ludo!”

“Rose!” Ludo’s mouth dropped, then morphed into a goofy grin once he saw the Time Lord too. “Doctor! Friends! Safe!” He approached the group with the grace of a toddler, unintentionally ripping branches off trees as he did so. 

“Hello there,” said Rose, gently petting his furry arm. Ludo’s ears creased in affection. 

After the Doctor bid Ludo hello, his eyes flitted back and forth between the two goblins, almost skeptical. “How did you manage to get to us?” Rose was equally curious. The painting she stepped through could have taken her anywhere in the labyrinth, but this place was surely far from where the mausoleum was. 

Hoggle twisted his lips. “Well-” 

“Birdie help!” Ludo smiled, raising his arm. 

A few leaves fell from above, and a familiar white owl flew down and rested itself near the stream. 

Rose’s eyes widened. “Is that?”

“Yup,” confirmed Hoggle. “A little while after you both went down, the damn thing came back. Thought it would try biting me again,” his hand flexed in memory, “but it didn’t.”

“Walls change,” said Ludo, trying to equally contribute to the story. 

“That they did. This lump and I looked behind us, and a new path had opened.” Hoggle pointed at the owl. “That bird led us through the labyrinth, straight to this forest.” 

“Huh,” said the Doctor, kneeling on the grass to better look at the owl. “Well, thank you.”

The owl flexed its wings in response. But as grateful Rose was for another ally, she was skeptical. So far, most of what they had encountered matched up with the film. At least, she had a feeling it did, despite her memory issues. Something about this owl…felt different; its presence felt out of tune with the story. 

“Why are you helping us?” Rose pulled at the recess of her memory, trying in vain to place him from the film. Of course, her damned head couldn’t pull up an image. 

The owl cooed, tilting its head at her. Its mismatched eyes were oddly expressive for any normal bird, but Rose was sure this creature was far from that. And like always, it didn’t stray long. As quickly as it arrived, the bird flapped up its wings and flew away into the trees. 

Ludo frowned, searching the trees for signs of the owl. “Birdie…not like us?” He turned to Rose as if she had an answer. 

“I’m sure it’s not that,” she said, reaching up to pat his shoulder. “He’s probably got places to be.” 

“He?” The Doctor turned his head toward Rose, intrigued by the sudden use of a pronoun. 

And in truth, Rose didn’t know why she said he either. “I’m not sure why, but that seemed right,” she concluded, her brow crinkling.

“Well I don’t care if it’s a he or she, ” interrupted Hoggle. “We’ve got to get going. The clock’s running out.” 

“Right,” agreed the Doctor, although he was still searching Rose’s face for an answer, like she solved a puzzle he had not. Giving up, he turned his body in all directions. After settling on one, he signaled to the group. “Ok then, let's move on.” 

Hoggle grumbled something about why the Doctor always had to call the shots but followed the Time Lord obediently. Ludo went after them, and so did Rose, the owl’s image still floating in her mind. 

********

“Tell me, Hoggle, does it ever rain in the labyrinth?” The Doctor and goblin trotted side by side, making their way through the forest. 

Hoggle chuckled. “Oh, it does, and you better hope that doesn’t happen.” 

Rose’s vision returned to the sky. Those storm clouds she spotted earlier were returning. “Oh, great,” she mumbled. 

“Is it dangerous?” The Doctor was certain everything was a threat in the labyrinth. He wasn’t wrong to think that. “Does the sky pour, well,” he paused, wiggling his fingers in thought, “acid or something?” 

“Nah,” said Hoggle, as if acid rain weren’t much of a threat. “Just might mess up that fancy hair of yours.”

The Doctor scoffed, charmed by Hoggle’s jape. “ God forbid that.” 

The Time Lord’s back and forth with Hoggle reminded Rose of his banters with Mickey. While it took a while for those two to properly get on, Mickey had become a valuable friend to the Doctor. Harsh words disguised a genuine respect, on both sides. It was easy to butt heads, but harder to put those differences aside for a common cause. 

Nostalgia was tricky. Rose didn’t fully appreciate Mickey when they were together. In turn, he never really understood her. She grasped for a life larger than what reality intended. He was content to ignore the blanket of stars above his head. It never would have worked out. The Doctor’s eventual place in her heart solidified that. 

Watching the curves of the Time Lord’s lips crease as he laughed with Hoggle incited a feeling in her Mickey never could have. It was an expression she could spend decades admiring. Thankfully, she’d have that chance, just not with this version of him. Rose thought of her husband. That Doctor was safe but removed from the narrative. He had a right to be here. Mia was his daughter, and he would have unleashed hell on the Toymaker for putting her in danger. But her husband wasn’t here, and all Rose could do was send a silent promise to him. She would stop at nothing to bring Mia home. 

A furry arm tapped her. “Rose sad?” Ludo tilted his head, having noticed her reflective face. 

She shook her head. “Oh no, Ludo,” said Rose, glancing at the Doctor again. He had paused his conversation with Hoggle to smile back at her. “Just tired. That’s all.” Exhausted, more like it. Hungry too. She never did get to finish those chips. 

With not much else to go off of, the group followed the small forest stream that curved through the dirt. The Doctor assumed that there would have to be a source, or at least that would be the logical answer. For once, the labyrinth agreed, for they were soon greeted by a gorgeous blue lake. 

The water was cartoonishly vibrant, the kind of shade a child might color into a storybook. Small purple dragonflies flew about the edge, buzzing with glee. Rose tried not to get too close, having learned from Hoggle’s fairy extermination earlier. 

“Beautiful,” said the Doctor, his mouth slightly agape. “Oh, that’s just lovely.” 

In the center of the lake was an island. Trees surrounded the edge of the landmass, blocking a full view of the terrain. However, it was their only promising lead. The lake ended at a long stretch of wall, with no viable opening in view. Options were short. The island wasn’t a direct path back into the walls of the maze, but Rose remembered what that blue worm had told them. Things are not always what they seem in this place. 

There were only two ways to get there. The first was to swim. Rose couldn’t gauge the depth of the water but wasn’t going to jump at the chance to test it. Who knew what could be swimming in those waters? The second option was to cross the stone bridge that led from the edge of the forest to an opening in the island treeline. Option two was more appealing. 

There was just one problem: the bridge was guarded. 

“Halt!” A haughty voice proclaimed. That voice belonged to just about the last creature one would expect it to: an impeccably dressed fox. Standing on his hind legs, the not-quite goblin huffed his chest at the group. He was dressed like some Renaissance hero. The red and green checkered vest, armored knee pads, velvet blue hat with a yellow plume, and golden scepter made him out to be a well-decorated knight. There was also the matter of his black eye patch, a striking detail that lent him a mysterious quality. 

“Stop!” said the fox-like goblin, raising his scepter. “Stop I say!” 

“I don’t care,” said Hoggle, rolling his eyes. He took a step onto the bridge, but the fox snapped his scepter against the other goblin’s knees. Hoggle jumped back toward land, cursing. “Hey!” 

“I did warn you,” defended the fox, nose twitching. 

“That was quite uncalled for,” said the Doctor, never a fan of any show of violence. However, Rose couldn’t say she was intimidated by the creature. He was no larger than a small dog. The whole getup was cute, really. Judging by the smirk on the Doctor’s face, she guessed he agreed. 

“Excuse me,” Rose said, more kindly, “but we really do have to get across this bridge.” 

“Without my permission,” said the fox, placing a paw on his hip, “no one may cross!” 

“Please,” the Doctor urged, his patience thin. “We only have a little time left.” 

“We’ve got to get to the castle, out of this forest,” Rose pressed her hands together in pleading. 

“And away from you,” Hoggle mumbled, rubbing his slapped knee. 

Ludo shuffled forward, drowning the fox in size. However, the knight was unperturbed, his stance remaining protective. “Friend need cross now,” urged Ludo, leaning his head forward. 

The fox huffed. “I do not care. I’m sworn from letting anyone through.” 

“And why is that?” asked Rose, trying to sound sympathetic to his cause. “Is this your home?”

The fox lowered his head slightly, dismayed. “Alas, it is not. The air here is putrid,” he said, dramatically plugging his nose. “Oh, I do miss my dear bog.” He sighed, wistful. 

“Then why are you here?” Hoggle didn’t seem to care much about the fox’s laments. 

“The new boss ordered me to guard this bridge!” The fox proudly banged his stick on the cobblestone. “I am a brave knight. I will not abandon my duty.”

“Your new boss?” the Doctor asked, inquisitive. Any chance to depose the Toymaker was one he’d eagerly take. “Let me guess, he’s off his rocker.”

The fox gasped, covering his mouth. “Oh stop that! One mustn't insult a regent. Even if the insult is, er,” he nervously rubbed his scepter, “accurate.”

Hoggle leaned his head back, groaning. “We ain’t got time for this.” He turned his head to Ludo, then pointed at the fox. “You wanna take care of that?” 

Ludo smiled widely, and without warning, grabbed the fox’s scepter, lifting it, and the creature, into the air. “Hey! Stop it!” the fox yelled, kicking its felt helplessly. “I don’t want to have to hurt you! Let go of my staff now!”

Ever obliging, Ludo listened to the fox’s order. Unfortunately, he was promptly punished for his obedience, as the fox whacked the orange goblin on the knee. “Aha!” shouted the knight, ducking under Ludo’s legs as the larger creature swiped at him. 

“Leave him alone!” Hoggle swept in, furiously trying to grab the fox. However, the knight managed to climb onto Ludo’s back, getting out of Hoggle’s reach. 

“Alright then,” the fox chuckled, balancing himself, “I can conquer this mountain!” He repeatedly batted Ludo on the head with his scepter, but the orange goblin was unperturbed. 

Rose leaned toward the Doctor, somewhat concerned. “Think we should step in?” 

But the Time Lord was enjoying the show. “Nah,” he dismissed. “What did I say? Always make friends with muscle, right?” The Doctor gestured a hand at the three sparring goblins, who did as much harm to each other as a fly could to a Sycorax. 

Ludo had managed to shake the fox off, startling his opponent. That gave enough time for Hoggle to pick up a large stick begin batting at the knight. This went on for some time, with Hoggle and Ludo taking turns on offense, as the fox tried in vain to jump away. 

Eventually, the small goblin ran out of breath, and collapsed on the floor. “Enough!” he said, lifting a paw in the air. “Never before this day have I met my match in battle.” The fox used his scepter to hoist himself up, then pointed toward Hoggle and Ludo. “Yet, these noble knights have brought me to a standstill.” 

Hoggle scoffed. “I’m not a-” 

“Maybe it’s best if you just take the compliment, Hoggle” interrupted Rose, shrugging her shoulders. “Unless you and Ludo want to keep fighting.” 

The fox nodded. “Sirs Hoggle and Ludo,” he tilted his head in the direction of both, “if that’s thy name, then I, Sir Didymus, yield to thee.” The knight bowed deeply, his show of respect grand. “Let us be brothers in sport, and fight for the right as one.” 

The Doctor tousled Hoggle on the shoulder. “Look at that. You’ve been upgraded from a friend to a brother.”  

“Oh gods,” sighed Hoggle, quite out of his depth. 

Ludo, on the contrary, smiled, shaking Sir Didymus’ paw eagerly. “Ludo get brotha.” 

“Well meet Sir Ludo,” the knight agreed, holding out his paws. 

“Right, great,” said Rose, already moving toward the bridge. “Let’s go on then.”

Sir Diymus jumped, then moved to block Rose’s path. He held out his scepter protectively, but his expression appeared more sympathetic than before. “Wait a minute! You forget my sacred vow, my lady. I cannot let you pass.” 

“But you just called us your brothers,” said Hoggle, brow crinkled in frustration. 

“Er, yes, but I have taken an oath,” Sir Didymus said, tone kind but stern. “None may cross this bridge, and I must defend it to the death.”

“And what exactly have you sworn?” asked the Doctor, his patience tried once again. 

“I have sworn with my life’s blood,” Sir Didymus waved his scepter, “that no one shall pass without my permission.” 

The group went silent for a moment. “Well,” said the Doctor, brow raised, “then may we have your permission?” 

Sir Didymus froze. “I-well I-” he said, putting a paw against his side. He stared at the floor for a moment, his entire purpose having just exploded. The knight took a deep breath. “Yes. I suppose you can.”

The Doctor clapped. “Brilliant!”  

“Thank you, noble sir,” Rose said, grinning slightly.

“My lady,” said the fox, taking off his hat to bow again. 

“I’m outta here,” Hoggle said, batting a hand at the fox. Clearly, he wasn’t up for another friend, but it seemed fate was working against him. The goblin started to cross the bridge, and Ludo happily followed. 

“Wait good sirs!” Sir Didymus turned toward the forest trees, then whistled. “Ambrosius! Come out now!” A shaggy-haired dog emerged from the green depths. Atop its back, a small saddle was strapped. “Atta boy.” Sir Diymus hoisted himself onto his loyal steed, then clicked his feet against the sides of the animal. “Forward!”

The Doctor and Rose watched in reverence as the dog trotted on. “I guess he’s coming along then,” said the Time Lord, studying their new companion. 

“Hoggle was right. We do pick up a lot of strays,” replied Rose, not opposed to the fact. The pair walked ahead. “Think this is a good idea?” 

“Who am I to say?” The Doctor scrutinized the little fox, scratching the back of his neck. “But you’ve gotten us this far, haven’t you?” His expression went soft, preparing to adapt to her reaction. 

With his simple expression, that signature Doctor talent shone through. If he trusted her, then that’s all she needed to feel strong, capable, and adept. The Doctor could make even the defeated feel victorious. He was the kind of person she desperately needed in her life, and her. They both had something crucial to offer to one another: faith. They believed in each other even if they didn’t believe in themselves. So in response to his question, Rose smiled. There was no one else she’d spend an eternity in chaos with. 

If only eternity were possible.

Chapter Text

“Spaceboy, you're sleepy now,

Your silhouette is so stationary

You're released but your custody calls

And I want to be free

Don't you want to be free?”

- David Bowie, “Hallo Spaceboy”

********

The island cast a leaden shadow over the group. Stepping ashore, the Doctor was taken aback by a distinct pine scent. An overhead of trees blocked the orange rays of late afternoon. He pressed one hand against a wooden trunk, examining the bark’s texture. From touch alone, the trees felt old, holding an air of ancient knowledge that the Doctor felt rivaled his own. 

Hoggle, Ludo, and Rose’s eyes darted around cautiously, the island air strikingly chiller than the rest of the labyrinth. Only Sir Didymus was unperturbed, charging on gallantly atop his dog steed. 

“Chin up, Ambrosius,” said the fox, his scepter raised. “We must lead our friends to safety. Then, we are destined for victory!” 

“Can I ask you something?” The Doctor asked his new friend, envying the goblin’s assurance. 

“Of course,” Sir Didymus replied. “For we are bound together in this quest.” 

“Right,” the Doctor nodded slowly, the question prodding at his mind. “Why did your,” he paused, wondering how to phrase it without sounding crass, “new boss, station you on that bridge?” 

“I was wondering the same thing,” said Rose, wringing her fingers nervously. A rustle in the shaded branches sounded, causing everyone to stop dead in their tracks. However, it was only a squirrel; a weird sort of squirrel, rabbit hybrid. It climbed down from the tree and scurried off into another part of the forest. 

“I shoulda never left the fountain,” groaned Hoggle, sticking close to Ludo’s side. The orange goblin’s ears were flipped downward, a reflection of his unease.

“Hm,” Sir Didymus hummed, pondering the Doctor’s words. “I believe his majesty said that ‘a guarded bridge would make a doctor want to cross it even more.’ Funny, I had no idea what he meant by that at the time.” The fox’s nose twitched in reminiscence. “Now, I understand that instruction was in reference to you.” 

“Oh, great,” sighed the Doctor, rubbing his face. 

“So, the Toymaker wants us to be here?” Rose put two and two together, her expression soon matching the Doctor’s irritated one. “Fantastic.” 

“I would not fret, my lady,” said Sir Diymus, smiling comfortingly at her. “Should there be danger, I shall protect you.” 

“Thanks,” said Rose, chuckling nervously. She shot the Doctor an anxious look, causing him to reach out a hand toward her. Rose smiled gently, then grasped it with her own. 

Hand in hand, they moved through the dark woods, unsure of where and when to turn. Then, another sound rumbled, low and growling. 

“Was that my stomach or yours, Ambrosius?” Sir Didymus twisted his head up and down, but the dog had no answer. The Doctor was a bit confused as to why almost all animalistic goblins could talk, but not animals themselves. At least that was the case with the dog and owl. 

Ludo rubbed his tummy, confirming who the growl belonged to. “Hungry,” he mumbled, frowning. 

“Well, we can’t exactly stop now,” said Hoggle, wanting to be the voice of reason. 

It was then that the group came upon a faint light, blocked by a thick awning of leaves. As they neared the greenery, a sweet, sickly scent brushed over them. 

“Oh gods,” said Hoggle, sniffing. “Smells like-”

“Fruit,” answered Ludo, eyes glimmering with interest. Without consulting the group, the orange goblin skipped forward, rushing to the source of the smell. He broke through green blockage, disappearing into what lay behind. 

“Sir Ludo! Wait!” yelled Sir Didymus, charging after his “brother” into the leaves. 

“Oh damn this,” Hoggle said, joining the chase. He too forced himself through the greenery. 

Rose tilted her head toward the leaves. The Doctor squeezed her hand in silent response, and the pair moved ahead. Brushing through the abundant foliage, a new wave of sounds came through. From bustling chatter to the faint traces of music, the Doctor wasn’t sure what they’d come across. 

And then, they broke through. Hidden behind the leaves was a vast orchard. Lines of trees circled the area, each bearing a different fruit. In front of each sat small wooden stalls. Manning them were goblins equal in size to Hoggle, but vastly different in appearance. They had the faces of rats, moles, and cats, tails swishing about. The Doctor hadn’t seen a grove as plentiful in quite some time. Almost every Earthly fruit he could name was growing on a tree. Gooseberries, dates, currants, and to the Doctor’s dismay, pears, were being sold in abundance. 

“It’s a market,” the Doctor commented, giving name to the sight.

Long noses raised upon Rose and the Doctor’s arrival. Other goblins walked around the area, holding baskets full of fruit and miscellaneous accents. They stilled at the sight of the pair. 

For a moment, the silence of the merchants and shoppers struck a chord of fear in the Doctor. However, the goblins all broke out into wide, welcoming smiles. “Visitors!” one called, voice bouncy. It belonged to the merchant poised at the far end of the grove, his shop belonging to the biggest tree, one that bore peaches.  

“Come buy our orchard fruits.” The peach merchant called, offering his wares. “Sweet to tongue and sound to the eye, come buy! Come buy!” 

The other merchant goblins chimed in, haggling prices and promises. Meanwhile, the goblin shoppers returned to their tasks. In the center of the market lay a grand, empty table. Sitting at the head, a single goblin played an instrument similar to a violin. He was unbothered by Rose and the Doctor’s entrance, eyes closed as he played a jolly tune. Feeling relatively safe, the pair cautiously made their way closer to the wooden stalls. They settled in front of the peach merchant, the one that first called to them. 

The goblin grinned, wiping his paws on his white apron. Looking like a mole, it seemed like he was squinting at the pair, his eyes incredibly tiny. His most striking feature was his bright, pink nose, complementing the orange of his peaches. “Welcome! Welcome!”

“Excuse me,” asked Rose, “but where is this?”

“This is the Goblin Market,” beamed the peach merchant, “and it’s our day of harvest.” His massive pile of goodies captured Rose’s attention. 

Rose bit her lip. “Those look delicious.” From how her eyes ravenously scanned the scene, he could tell she was hungry. Ludo wasn’t the only one with an empty stomach. Unfortunately, it was a problem he couldn’t do much to solve. 

“Haven’t got any money,” the Doctor winced, rummaging around in his pockets. What kind of currency did the labyrinth even operate on? If Hoggle were by his side, the Time Lord might be able to knick another ruby off the goblin. He looked around to see where his friend ran off, but Hoggle was nowhere in sight. 

“What is it?” asked Rose, sensing his concern.

“Hang on,” said the Doctor, searching the market for signs of Ludo, Sir Didymus, or even Ambrisious. “Did you see where our friends went?” 

“I would not concern yourselves with our goblin brethren,” dismissed the merchant, his tone less chipper. “Let them get lost with their own kind.” 

The Doctor raised a brow. “I think not. Rose,” he said, turning his head toward her, “let’s find them.”

She nodded, and the pair moved to head to another part of the market. However, the merchant’s paw shot out, grabbing the Doctor’s wrist. The movement stunned him, pulling the Doctor back to the stand, and causing him to lose his grip on Rose’s hand. “Watch it,” he told the goblin, carefully. The violin music abruptly stopped. 

“You mustn’t leave,” said the peach merchant, sternly, “not when the table has just been laid.” He raised a paw to point at something behind the pair. 

The Doctor and Rose turned around to find that the wooden table had been decorated with a magnificent display. Golden and silver plates of delicious fruit were waiting. The other goblin merchants were poised in front of tree stump chairs, ready to dig in. 

“Take a seat with us,” the pear merchant invited, its cat claws wrapped around the handle of a chair. The other goblins grinned widely. “Our feast is but beginning, and night is yet early.”

The Doctor had an inkling the group wouldn’t take kindly to a rejection of hospitality. That didn’t dismiss the building tension in his chest. The toothy smiles of the moles did little to relax him. “Thank you,” he said, trying his best to sound polite, “but we have somewhere to be.” 

The peach merchant twisted his head, examining the Doctor. “Nonsense,” he said, gesturing at the plentiful heaps of fruit platter in a grand display. “Such fruits as these are rare indeed. Their dew and flavor is ripe for tasting.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rose butted in, much to the chagrin of the group. “We have to leave. There are people expecting us.” 

A shuffling of feet sounded in the background, and the Doctor soon found that he and Rose were surrounded. Shoppers, merchants, and feasters alike locked their gaze on the pair. The peach merchant, clearly the leader, made his way to the center of the circle. In his paw, he held one of his ripe, orange fruits. “Look what we offer,” he said, holding it out toward Rose. 

“It’s just a peach,” she combated, resulting in a furious exchange of whispers amongst the other goblins. 

But the peach merchant just laughed. “And dreams are only dreams,” he said, tilting his head up. “One bite to make the world fall down.”

Something in Rose’s eyes shifted, widening like a memory overcame her. “Doctor,” she said, tone uneasy, “we need to go.”

And that’s when the merchants struck. The goblins ran toward the Doctor and Rose, violently tugging at their limbs. Rose yelped as one took a fistful of her hair. A pomegranate merchant elbowed the Doctor in his stomach, while the date merchant jostled his hair. 

“Wouldn’t the lady like a taste?” The violinist cackled, tearing at the sleeve of Rose’s cardigan. She was helpless to do anything, as the other goblins held her arms apart, and the Doctor was helpless to stop them. There were too many of them. The entire goblin market had descended upon the pair. 

The Doctor could only watch in fear as the peach merchant approached Rose. Long fingers wrapped around the same fruit initially offered to Rose. The merchant lifted it against her mouth. Rose’s lips were tightly shut, resisting. A tear shot out from her eye, her face the pinnacle of terror. 

At the mere sight of her fear, the Doctor shouted. “Stop!” 

The peach merchant snapped his head toward the Time Lord, the peach still dangerously close to Rose’s face. “What?” it snarled, the demeanor entirely changed. Gone with the happy-go-lucky attitude of a humble farmer, replaced by a bloodthirsty creature.

“I’ll have a taste,” the Doctor gasped, the other goblins still tugging at his sleeves. “Let me try it. Not her.” 

Rose shook her head, warning him. She didn’t dare open her mouth. Yet, her eyes told the Doctor all he needed to know. Don’t eat the peach.  

But the Doctor’s eyes told a story of his own. They said it didn’t matter what happened to him. He wouldn’t risk harm coming toward her. 

“How lovely,” the peach merchant grinned, pleased to have an obliging customer. He walked to the Time Lord and outstretched his hand. Poisoned in his palm lay the forbidden fruit. 

Hesitantly, the Doctor lifted the peach up. The fuzz tickled his skin, soft and inviting. Too inviting. He examined the fruit, hoping for some obvious sign of rot or danger. But no, it was plump, round, and beckoning the Doctor to taste it. 

“One bite is all I ask,” said the peach merchant, placing his paws together. “That’s all it takes.”

So, the Doctor raised the fruit to his lips, opened his mouth, and bit into it, never losing eye contact with Rose. Her eyes widened as began to chew. “No,” she whispered, forgetting the need to protect herself.

It hardly mattered. The peach merchant got what he wanted, for the fresh, sweet scent of the fruit invaded the Doctor’s senses. It was delicious. So delicious. Perfect in every way. The Doctor swallowed, allowing the bite of peach to pass through his throat. 

“Now wasn’t that easy?” boasted the peach merchant, a wicked smile on his face. 

But the Doctor found himself unable to respond. 

He was…

Tired. 

So very tired. 

He should rest. 

Oh yes, he should rest. 

And as his mind escaped into the wind, the Doctor let himself fall. 

********

As the Doctor collapsed onto the grass, the goblins restraining Rose’s arms finally let go. She fell forward, then crawled on her hands and knees toward the Time Lord, yelling his name. Rose had to get to him, had to do something to save him. All the while, the goblin merchants laughed at her dismay. 

But she was too late. He’d already eaten the peach. Rose took hold of his face. The Doctor’s eyes were tightly shut. Rose knelt and shook his shoulders. She repeated his name, tapping his face to bring him out of whatever spell was cast. “Come on now,” she urged, “wake up.” 

“He can’t,” said the peach merchant, his voice cool. “The fruit works fast.” 

“What the hell did you do to him?” Rose touched the Doctor’s cheek, which was blazing with heat. 

Another goblin chuckled. It was the one holding a basket of grapes. “He might not say it out loud,” it drawled out, “but we gave him exactly what he wanted.”

“We gave him his dreams,” said the peach merchant, stalking toward Rose.” The peach had dampened in color, the bright orange colors turning rotten. “Our fruits are honey to the throat, but poison to the blood for little humans.” 

Rose stilled, then raised her gaze to the peach merchant. “Well,” she whispered, “good thing he’s not human.” 

The peach merchant frowned, annoyed by the discovery. “Hardly matters,” he said, though his tone indicated that the words weren’t truthful. “He’s somewhere you can’t go now.” 

“And where is that?” Rose growled, anger festering. 

A sinister grin painted the merchant’s face, replacing his depression of displeasure. “There’s only one way to find out. And you better do it quickly, before he’s lost to you.” He gestured a long, bony finger at the Doctor’s right palm. In it, the Time Lord grasped the round, orange peach. A single bite tainted the center, the fleshy interior exposed.

Rose knew it would harm her. Those distant film memories told her as much. And it might not even work. But she was never one to stray from danger, not where the Doctor was concerned. So before her logic got the better of her, she snatched the peach, raised it to her lips, and bit into it. The juice dribbled down Rose’s chin, warm against her skin, and blending with the tears that came out of her. 

“Let sorrow not curse you,” said the peach merchant, laying a damp paw against Rose’s brow. “For you will soon be free.” 

Rose’s body went limp at the words. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Then, in a matter of seconds, the world around her descended, and the sound of music made her soar. 

Chapter Text

“As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone

Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you

As the world falls down”

- David Bowie, “As the World Falls Down”

********

It was a rare moment when the Doctor was at rest. He was under the constant burden of duty, always finding someone or something that needed saving. It’s why he could never stay still. There was so much to do, and never enough time, not even for an immortal like him. The pull of the universe wrapped chains around his soul.

But he had broken them off. The Doctor had settled, trading that duty for a simple life. Another him was out there, carrying on the fight, but he could be at peace, surrounded by those he loved. 

Yet, the dreams persisted, though the form was different. And with a bite of that peach, the Doctor found himself dancing through one. 

Dancing. 

He was dancing. 

How very strange. 

The Doctor didn’t know where he was. The Goblin Market had disappeared, and with it all sense of materiality. But he wasn’t bothered. No, not at all. Why should he be? Here, he was free. The Time Lord let his feet twist and turn with the movements of his partner. 

Partner? 

His hands were placed on the waist of a young girl, with curly brown hair and a long blue dress. She wore a finely crafted silver mask, not dissimilar to the Venetian style. Grasping his hand, the girl let the Doctor lead her in a twirl. She smiled brightly as her skirts swept delicately in the air. 

The Doctor knew her. He did, and he didn’t. She was family. That he could gather from the swell of pride that inflamed in his chest. 

But what was her name? 

He didn’t need to think much longer, because the girl passed his hand to a different partner. That’s when the Doctor took better notice of where he danced. He was in a grand ballroom, the surrounding walls decorated with mirrors and pearl chandeliers. A golden clock hung high above, the time barely visible. Tables adorned with white cloths each held a basket of fruit. Peaches, to be more precise. There was music playing; a soft, slow jazz with a distinct sound. The Doctor struggled to recollect the full tune. Several figures were dancing in tune with the song, including his new partner. 

If her bright red hair didn’t catch his attention, her bold, hearty laugh certainly did. The woman’s movements were far less gracious than the young girl’s, but they were full of life. She wore a beautiful purple gown, the gold trim matching her mask.

The Doctor knew her. He knew her very well indeed. But there was no chance to make conversation, for the woman abandoned him too. She danced over to the young girl, wrapping her in a warm, motherly hug. They stood by two others: a handsome man similar in age to the ginger, and a cheerful older chap in a wheelchair. Their full faces were also obscured with masks, but their joy was infectious. The old man’s wrinkled hands clapped with glee upon the approach of the mother and daughter. 

Mother and daughter? 

A wave of calm hit him. Of course, he thought. It was the Doctor’s family. The Nobles and Wilfred Mott. 

They were here. They were happy. And his niece was safe. 

Safe?

Safe from what?

But the thought soon escaped him. He was too distracted by the dazzling ballroom sights The Doctor moved to approach his family, but he stopped by the wide grins of the group. Donna laughed again, but the cadence was different. More teasing. She pointed a finger to something behind him. 

So the Doctor turned his head and was met with the most precious sight. 

Because there stood Rose Tyler. And she was radiant. 

Her blonde hair flowed freely, adorned with silver leaves. The gown she wore glimmered like starlight, rivaling even the most beautiful of constellations. The Doctor had never seen anything like it. The garment was embezzled with dreamy qualities. Unlike the other ballroom guests, Rose wore no mask. The pale tulle of her skirt swayed amongst a sea of dark fabrics as she floated through the room. 

Everything changed when she met the Doctor’s gaze. There was a softness in her stare, one that both relaxed and sped up the pace of the Time Lord’s hearts. When that look was paired with a smile, he was lost to everything else. 

Nothing mattered but Rose. Not the boundaries of time and space. Not the endless drowning of sorrow that chained him to the past. All that was gone here, in this perfect place. 

The Doctor and Rose were free. Free to be together. Whether she approached him, or him her, hardly mattered. The most important thing to the Doctor was the press of her hands on his shoulders. And soon, without even needing to ask, the two began to dance. 

The rhythm came naturally, as if the pair were always destined for this. The Doctor finally managed to place a name to the tune of the song that was playing. It was “Moonlight Serenade,” the song that Rose switched on the radio during the London Blitz. That was the first time she asked him to dance. 

The world doesn’t end because the Doctor dances, she told him then. Her words were partly true. The world would not end, it would fall instead. 

Some unnamed instinct pricked at the far edges of his mind. His senses felt vibrant, yet dull. The Doctor hardly understood it. But as he danced with Rose, their eyes remained locked on one another. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to stay here, just as they were. The stuff of legends, they were. 

Then, he heard another laugh. 

The Doctor shifted his gaze away from Rose, to find a young, blonde girl standing by his family. It took him a matter of seconds to recognize her. It was Mia Tyler. Like Rose Noble, she wore an elegant blue dress, blending in perfectly with the group. It felt right, seeing her there, alongside all the others he loved. He and Rose could be together, with their daughter. 

Daughter? But…is that right? the Doctor thought. He wanted it to be true, compelled for it to be so. Yet that feeling of pure perfection was enough to cause the Doctor’s hazy mind to reawaken. 

“Where,” he began, speaking for the first time, “where are we?” 

Rose’s eyes were matched with his own, content, confused, and incandescently happy. “A dream,” she whispered, her words no louder than the sound of a breeze. 

A dream…yes, that’s what this was. “Yours, or mine?” he asked, his hands resting on her waist as they continued to dance. 

“I think it's both,” said Rose, her glazed expression grew more focused, disorientation disappearing. Yet, she made no move to run away. Rose chose to stay. 

What a lovely dream it was, but the Doctor and Rose came to the same conclusion at that moment. 

“We can’t stay here,” she said to both of them. “This…isn’t real.” 

And she was exactly right. His memories began to return. The taste of the Goblin Market’s peach went rancid in his mouth. It had taken him somewhere he couldn’t resist, and the spell was wearing off. 

But before it lost its full charm, he cupped Rose’s cheek in his palm, memorizing every last detail of her face. He wanted to remember her just like this, in a rare moment where they completely belonged to one another. 

Before this ballroom, before the labyrinth, the Doctor had gone back to see Rose one last time. All the cells in his body were dying, but the Doctor had to make one last stop before regeneration. He had to see her. So he took the TARDIS on January 1st, 2005. She was beautiful, full of hope and unbridled optimism. 

Mere moments later, in the dawn of a new year, Ood Sigma told him something he’d never forget. The song is ending, but the story never ends.

And that was true. But it wouldn’t keep him from letting the record play again. 

“How long would you stay with me?” asked the Doctor, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. 

Rose didn’t answer at first, instead laying her head on his shoulder. She let them dance as if they had all the time in the world. “Forever,” she finally said, repeating that same promise she made many years ago. 

“Not long at all.” The Doctor smiled sadly, envious of the life they might have lived. 

And as their song entered its last verse, the Doctor made a bold decision. He would allow himself one final selfish act. Here, he could pretend. He could escape all semblance of the agony that held him back. He and Rose were not souls whose string of fate had been cut. No, they were bound together, free to embrace until the journey’s end. 

Rose gently lifted her head from the Doctor’s shoulder, and when she met his eyes again, he seized his chance. He tilted his head and softly pressed his lips to hers, sealing them in a gentle kiss. The touch was fragile, full of trust and centuries of yearning. In this kiss, he gave her everything he could; all his hopes, all his promises, all his love. 

When he broke away, the Doctor was beholden by Rose’s gaze. He’d expected one heavy with unspoken thoughts, perhaps a tinge of regret. But no, instead Rose’s face was painted with an open tenderness. She moved a hand to press on his chest, between his two hearts. Tilting her head, she pressed a kiss of her own against his forehead. 

That’s when the music came to a stop. Another song began to play, teasing them with the promise of a continued dream. 

But it was time to wake up, and the golden clock chimed the end of an hour. 

Rose turned her head to the mirrored outskirts of the room. The Doctor saw the image of them staring back at him. A portrait of what could never be. So, he did the only thing he could. He let her take the lead. She let go of his hand, grasped a nearby chair, and threw it at the mirror. Shards of silver broke, and the dancers around the room screamed in anguish. Gravity fell out from under them, objects flying into the air. Before he lost the chance, the Doctor reached out and grasped Rose’s hand again, tethering himself to her one last time. And so, they fell once more, leaving their song and legend behind, and returning to the disorder of the labyrinth.

Chapter Text

“You say we're growing

Growing heart and soul

In this age of grand illusion

You walked into my life

Out of my dreams

Sweet name, you're born once again for me”

- David Bowie, “Word on a Wing”

********

Rose had found him; her Doctor in a ballroom of wonders. 

There they danced under the glimmer of hope, trapped in love’s thrall. 

It was too real, too perfect to be true. 

She could have stayed. She wanted to stay. 

But life was full of tough choices. Wasn’t it? 

So Rose shattered their shared dream, and now they fell, traces of that ballroom floating around them into a black void of nothing. 

But the Doctor still sought out her hand. 

Always holding on, he was. 

Always. 

********

Rose crashed into a pile of rubble, her senses assaulted by the putrid smell of decay. It was a rude awakening from the sweet poison of the dream. Her head was foggy. She could barely comprehend where she was. The sky was dark; a dim horizon of orange and purple, matched with inky clouds. Mounds of trash littered the area. Discarded wooden shelves, loose iron bed frames, and drapes of cloth were piled amongst each other. This junkyard was a mammoth of lost treasures, one that Rose couldn’t fathom how to get out of. 

Someone’s hand was laid atop hers. Rose turned to the left and found the Doctor, sitting on a broken leather armchair. He rubbed his forehead, yawning. Their palms were sweaty, so Rose looked down and found a rotten peach in their shared hold. A green, slimy bug slithered out of the center. 

Choking out of disgust, Rose grasped the peach with her other hand and threw it into another junk pile. She wiped the stinking juices off on her trousers, cleaning her hands from the stain of that other world. 

By now, the Doctor had managed to get out of his seat. Squinting his eyes, the Time Lord reached for his glasses and placed them on, his vision out of order. “Rose,” he said, “do you have any idea where we are?” 

In the back of her mind, there was assurance that said: yes. Out loud, she said: “No, I’m sorry.” 

The Doctor shook his head. “Oh, don’t say sorry. I don't know what this place is either. Although,” he paused, glancing around at the trash heaps, “it feels vaguely familiar. Like I might have seen it somewhere.” 

But there was another, more pertinent question.

“Doctor, what are we doing here?” Rose searched his eyes for an answer. Her head wasn’t in the right place. There was a task she ought to do, but it escaped her. She blamed the peach. 

Unfortunately, the Doctor shared her sentiments. “Can’t say I know.” 

“We were doing something,” said Rose, certain of that. “I…I don’t know what.” She wrinkled her forehead, speaking truthfully. 

“Well, sitting around won’t get us anywhere.” The Doctor hoisted himself up, pressing his hands against his knees. However, he quickly lost his balance against the uneven trash. Rose leaped forward to catch the Doctor before he fell, steadying him as best she could. 

“Thanks,” he wheezed. He pounded the side of his head with his wrist, trying to wake himself up. “I’m all out of order up here. It’s…an odd feeling.” 

“You’re alright,” she said, not sure if her words were true. As she made her way down, Rose pressed a hand against a bundle of scrap, only for it to scream out at her. 

“Oh get off my back, will ya?!” shrieked a shrill, elderly voice. 

Rose jutted her arm away, discovering that the junk pile wasn’t just a pile. It was carried by a female goblin, stacked up like a backpack. Her wrinkled face reflected distaste. “Why don’t you look where you’re going? Hm?!” 

“I-I’m sorry,” defended Rose. “We were just…looking.” Looking? Looking for what? 

The junk lady wrapped her hands around the strands of her pack. She must not have taken kindly to humans touching her precious collection. “Hm, and just where were ya going?” she asked, raising a brow at the Doctor, equally unfond of him as she was Rose. 

“We,” the Doctor hesitated, “we forgot.” 

The junky lady cackled. “Hah! Well, ya can’t look where you’re going if you don’t know where you’re going.” 

“Yes that’s, part of the problem, really,” the Doctor stumbled, finding the words to justify their actions. Rose didn’t see the point. They’d already lost the woman’s favor. 

Rose tried to decipher a meaning out of the items in the junkyard. Some objects were recognizable, like dirtied teddy bears or rusted candelabras, but nothing revealed their purpose. “We were searching for something,” she whispered, certain enough of that. 

“Hm,” the junk lady twisted her lips in thought, “I might be able to help ya both then.” She shuffled past the pair, the metal in her pile clanking in tune with her movements. Rose reluctantly followed the goblin woman, the Doctor in tow. 

The three passed other goblin scavengers, all sorting through items to add to their packs. A black crow was perched on a wooden spindle, cawing as it watched on. The junk lady stopped in front of a faded blue carpet hanging off a pile. “Now, why don’t you come in here?” said the junk lady, gesturing her shaking hand over. She smiled, baring her blackened teeth. “I think you’ll find it’s what you both need.”

Rose pulled back the carpet, and her mouth gaped wide in disbelief at what lay behind it. “Oh god,” she said softly stepping into the last place she would have expected: the TARDIS console room. 

From the coral pillars to that distinct green glow, it was unmistakably the Doctor’s ship, just as Rose remembered it. Moving carefully forward, the Doctor soon entered the room. His eyes went wide at the sight. “We’re on board,” he said, taking his glasses off. 

Rose grazed one of the metal bars as she walked up to the center. The bar was cool to the touch, the temperature familiar to her hand. How strange, she thought. The detail was minor, but a wave of nostalgia washed over her. She turned back and found that the blue carpet was no longer there. Instead, there was only the police box door. 

Was that…that junkyard, she pondered, was it all a dream?

For a moment, Rose felt twenty again. Perhaps she and the Doctor had just returned from a long, arduous journey, dismantling Slitheen governments or fighting werewolves. However, the Doctor’s wearied face was enough to break the illusion. He looked despondent, at war with the room.

“This isn’t the TARDIS,” he said, hands wrapped tightly around a lever on the center console. “She hasn’t looked like this for ages.”

“But,” Rose stuttered, wanting so dearly for it to be real, “but it’s so-” 

The Doctor shook his head, then rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I would feel her.”

It was like a cold bucket of water had been poured over her. Now, she suddenly remembered reality. She wasn’t a companion of the Doctor anymore. Not this Doctor. Not in her home world. 

And yet…even if this wasn’t the TARDIS, she had missed this place. It wasn’t just a machine, it was alive; a vibrant being with a strong will, and a stronger heart. Rose had seen into the TARDIS’ soul and became one with it to create the Bad Wolf. A part of her would always belong with it. 

But no one longed for the TARDIS more than her husband. 

Her husband. Yes, she was married, but not to the Doctor who stood with her now. 

Rose and her Doctor often spoke of what stepping foot on this glorious machine would be like again. It was a painfully repeated conversation. That day on Bad Wolf Bay didn’t just wound Rose. Many nights after, the Doctor would hold her and reveal his pains. He had lost a friend; his oldest, most loyal friend. Her husband would never again test the threads of time, never witness the birth and death of a star. 

The human mind works in mysterious ways. Rose couldn’t recall what she was supposed to be doing here, but another moment came to her; a memory barely registered on the edge of sleep.

“What are you thinking?” she asked her husband, eyes focused on him as they lay in bed. Tonight, he wore that distant, wandering expression of his, the one he always got when he thought of the TARDIS. 

But the Doctor only smiled in response. “I’m thinking,” he said, pressing a hand against her face, “‘how did I get so lucky?’”

Rose chuckled. “We just spent the last hour trying to get Mia into bed. I’d hardly call that lucky.” 

“I don’t mean that,” he said, shaking his head. “Time and space, it’s brilliant. But you and Mia, you’re worth more than it.” His eyes shone as he spoke. “You’re all the adventure I need.” 

Her heart ached with love at his words, but she couldn’t help the inevitable prick of human doubt. Rose pressed a light kiss against his knuckles. “You don’t miss it out there? We’re just living a life here.” A human life. 

“Maybe so, but…the other me,” he said, his gaze intent, “he can have the universe. I have you.” 

But here she was, back with the other Doctor. 

And they had danced and shared an unreachable fantasy. 

“Doctor,” she spoke slowly, her mind piecing things together, “you were in that ballroom, yes?” 

His face softened. “I was. I think…that peach brought me there. I took a bite and lost my mind.” He gestured around his head. “But, you were there too,” he noted. “How?”

Rose bit her lip. “I couldn’t let you go alone.” 

The Doctor made a soft, approving hum. “That’s very you.” He leaned back against the console, staring at the floor. “I think I liked it there. It was peaceful, perfect even. I felt content.”

“Yes,” Rose agreed, her tone gentle. “That’s why it was so dangerous for us.” 

“I suppose so.” The Doctor rested his arms at his sides. “But it was nice to pretend, wasn’t it? Pretend to have it all?”

Rose joined his side. “It was,” she admitted. 

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak but paused. After a moment’s silence, he allowed himself to. “In the ballroom, when I kissed you,” he lowered his head, as if ashamed, “I'm sorry. I… I had to do it. Just once.” 

But the Doctor did not need to apologize, because Rose felt there was no need. That kiss was the culmination of a long, hopeless wish; a rare form of magic. 

“Don’t be sorry,” said Rose, smiling sadly. She thought of her husband, and how he might act if he were in this Doctor’s place. “I think he’ll understand.” She reached over and grasped the Doctor’s hand. 

The Doctor nodded, welcoming her grip. “Every time I think our time has passed,” he exhaled, “you find your way back to me. But it’s still never enough. I wanted to stay in the dream.” 

“Wanting to stay doesn’t make you weak.” Rose grasped the underside of his chin and lifted his gaze up to meet hers. “It would be weaker to say you were never tempted at all,” she said, letting her hand fall. 

“Right you are, Rose Tyler.” A bittersweet expression crossed the Doctor’s face. “Hard to resist a place where the people I love are all together.” 

Love. He just…he said, Rose thought. This Doctor, a man so closed off from his emotions that he normally wouldn't allow himself such an admission, had used the word love. A man who was tempted to stay with her, forever, in a world their own. Rose's heart stilled at the thought. 

However, she stopped her mind from wandering further when she examined his statement more closely. In the ballroom, she saw Mia, Donna, and for the first time, the girl she assumed was his niece. 

“Wait,” said Rose, her breath growing sharp. She'd have to return to the Doctor's choice of words later. “Those girls…”

Then, everything returned. 

The labyrinth. 

The goblins.

 The Toymaker and his games.

The girls. 

“Oh my God,” said Rose, placing a hand over her mouth, “I remember why we’re here” 

And so did the Doctor, because his eyes widened as the memories overcame him. The full effect of the peach’s spell had worn off. 

“We have to go,” said the Doctor, panicked.

Instantly, the green glow of the TARDIS went dark. A loud noise erupted as the walls began to crumble, revealing piles and piles of trash. This wasn’t the Doctor’s machine at all, it was just a copy. 

“We have to get out of here!” yelled the Doctor scrambling around for a means to escape. His eyes darted wildly around the room. They finally rested once a hole in the ceiling was discovered. The Time Lord pointed up. “Look!”

The hole allowed daylight into the room, signaling a chance to flee. Rose and the Doctor moved quickly, afraid of being crushed by the weight of rubble at any moment. 

Thankfully, they were not alone. 

“My lady! My liege!” screamed a familiar, high-pitched voice. It sounded like it was coming from outside the hole. A dog barked in unison with the cries of concern.

The Doctor’s mouth went slack. “That’s-”

“Sir Didymus!” Rose started climbing up a pile of coral, the structure sturdy enough to raise herself. She turned back to the Doctor. “Come on!” He followed suit, equally anxious to escape a crumbling TARDIS room. 

“Doctor! Rose!” a howling, friendly voice echoed. Ludo, Rose thought. 

“Here!” A small, wrinkled goblin hand stretched out from the hole above. Rose recognized it as belonging to Hoggle. “Take my hand!” yelled the goblin. “Hurry you two!” 

Rose reached out and let her friends pull her, and the Doctor, out of the trap, leaving behind that shallow impression of the past to make way for their threatened future.

All the while, a distant clock rang twelve notes, barely audible over the group’s yells. Twelve notes, for twelve hours. 

For they had now entered the thirteenth.

Chapter Text

“Like the leaf clings to the tree

Oh, my darling, cling to me

For we're like creatures in the wind

And wild is the wind”

- David Bowie, “Wild is the Wind”

********

Twelve chimes, each shook Rose’s resolve. Had it truly been that long? 

Rose gripped Hoggle’s hand as he helped pull her out of the hole. She soon emerged into the outskirts of the junkyard, bits and bobs of trash scraping by her. Crawling forward through the debris, Rose made room for the Doctor. A small, gold clock rested on the ground in front of her. The hands neared the thirteenth symbol; a petty taunt. Rose swore she heard the sound of a giggle before the object faded away. 

Having exhausted all his stamina with Rose, Hoggle yelled at Ludo to go help. Thankfully, the large goblin gladly lent his strength, lifting up the Doctor with great ease. 

“Oh, thank goodness! Thoust are saved at last,” said Sir Didymus, exhaling with relief. “We thought you were lost forever.” 

“Thanks for pitching in on the rescue,” Hoggle grumbled at the fox, still out of breath. He plopped on the floor to recover. 

“Doctor! Rose! Back!” Ludo smiled, expression growing relaxed at the sight of the pair. 

And what a sight they made. Rose was nearly covered head to toe in dirt, and her trousers were sticky from the peach juice. Her blue cardigan was torn at the sleeve, a remnant of the attack in the Goblin Market. The Doctor’s outfit wasn’t much better, having suffered similar abuse. The labyrinth had done quite a number on the pair. 

But it still hadn’t beaten them. 

“Where did you all go?” questioned the Doctor, brushing off his jacket as he stood. “You disappeared once we got to the market.” 

Hoggle’s eyes almost bulged out of his head. “You went to the Goblin Market?! That’s the last stinkin’ place you runners want to go. Don’t tell me ya ate the fruit.” A moment of silence surpassed, which Hoggle rightly interpreted as an affirmation. “Damn goblins,” he cursed, stomping his foot. 

“Hardly had a choice. Got force-fed,” said Rose, eyes warily meeting the Doctor’s. “The Toymaker’s gunning for us.” She turned her gaze back on their three goblin allies. “Where are we now?” 

“My lady,” said Sir Didymus, his posture proud, “we’re at the center.” He lifted his scepter toward a grand stone wall: the defense of the Goblin City. 

Up close, the fantastical metropolis that teased their vision for twelve hours was rather unimposing. A semicircle half-wall housed an iron gate. A sculpted crown decorated the top of the stone arch. Beyond the wall was a large opening that revealed the city. Rose could see goblin-sized homes, but not a single resident. The city was empty; abandoned. 

In front of the gate leaned a single guard, armored in steel, and holding a wooden staff. However, the goblin was dead asleep, its chest rising and falling gently. If this was what stood between the group and victory, then Rose was almost underwhelmed. 

“I don’t believe it,” said the Doctor, expression baffled. “We’re here.” 

“Don’t get so excited,” said Hoggle, side-eying the Time Lord. “Plenty of booby traps to get through.” 

“Gates tall,” said Ludo, shaking his head in dismay. 

“Yes, yes, it’s a great trial, but I’m delighted that the forest aided us in our quest,” said Sir Didymus, scratching the underside of his chin. “The trees led us straight here. But, er, how did the two of you arrive?” 

It was a good question, but not one Rose felt equipped to explain. “We fell,” she said, recalling the collapse of the dream world. Their arrival at the gates made a weird sort of sense. They had passed a test and were thus rewarded. While it wasn’t much of an explanation to the rest of the group, the three goblins didn’t question it. Illogic was their way of life. 

Something in the peach had realtered her brain chemistry, reawakening the forgotten memories of the film. It was supposed to wipe her mind, but now it was invigorated. Rose miraculously recalled each and every last detail of Labyrinth, the film from her childhood. She hadn’t any clue why they were buried for so long. 

However, it wasn’t like those memories would have been of much use. Her and the Doctor’s journey through the maze was far different than that of the film’s young girl. But for all her happiness at regaining that lost part of her mind, the painful truth of the last hour overcame her. They had to move, fast. 

In tune with Rose, the Doctor’s furrowed brow reflected a similar contemplation. He sighed, examining the blockades of the Goblin City. “Ludo, Sir Didymus, Hoggle,” he said, looking at each of their friends, “let’s go quickly. Rose and I don’t have much time.” 

Ludo frowned, lowering his head like a guilty dog. “Yeah…”

“No need for chit-chat then,” said Hoggle, standing firm. “Got to knock that idiot who calls himself a king upside the head.” His courage was a far cry from the cowardice he’d previously displayed. Perhaps the final hour was getting to him too. It wasn’t just the girls at stake; Hoggle’s kingdom, his home, still had a chance to be saved. And with no Goblin King to be found, it was up to the labyrinth’s inhabitants to take on the burden. Ludo and Sir Didymus might not have been aware, but they too were becoming saviors of their people. 

“Right,” chirped Sir Didymus, having not a clue who Hoggle spoke of. He clicked his heels into Ambrisious, trotting the dog forward. “Off we go.” 

As the three goblins left the remnants of the junkyard, Rose and the Doctor focused on each other. One final hour. Was this the last they would share? Defeating the labyrinth meant returning home safely, and the Time Lord and human were no longer each other’s homes. That was the cruelest tragedy of all: their final moments would be spent fighting a madman. 

So much left to say, and to do, and never the right instance.  

Rose nodded at the Doctor, her intentions clear. Mia was her life, her priority, despite all that had been set forth to tempt her. Were he any other man, perhaps the Time Lord would have difficulty grasping that. But he was the Doctor, and the Doctor understood self-sacrifice better than anyone. 

********

The Doctor wasn’t ashamed of his behavior in the ballroom. He was long due for a moment of fantasy. And since he was such a damn coward in reality, he could be brave in a dream. A wish could be granted. Had he more time, the Doctor might have even told Rose those three words he couldn’t manage in the gallery. Might have. Could have. Would have. But the semantics weren’t important, the action was. 

He had accepted the fruit on Rose’s behalf, but she still followed him into the dream. She wanted the Doctor safe, just as dearly as he wished the same for her. This labyrinth, in all its laughter, terror, and confusion, had brought them together. So he couldn’t hate it. While his Time Lord body jittered at the strange (dare he say, magical ) air, it was that magic that tied him closer to the woman he loved.  

The Toymaker’s games were hardly a threat. He’d beaten the monster before. But the Doctor had yet to settle the tide of longing for his former companion. He was healing, every day. Donna had seen it. His niece too. And Rose knew. She knew what he really meant to him. 

Because love was a powerful, contradictory force. Love told him to give it all up to stay with Rose, but it also anchored him to his new home. His brilliant, wonderful niece who had so much more to give to her world, deserved a life safe. He would never lose her to a madman like the Toymaker. The Doctor loved Donna too dearly ever to risk her daughter. 

If there were more time, the Doctor would tell Rose those words. 

But there was no time at all. 

The Doctor and Rose walked toward the gates. The lack of noise in the city outskirts unsettled him. What could be heard were the faint snores that sounded out from the sleeping goblin guard. He rested against the stone wall, unaware of the group. It was best to approach this carefully, the Doctor felt. Who knows what final stage of terror the Toymaker had cooked up? 

However, the ever-valiant Sir Didymus had other plans. The fox trotted up to the gates and screamed: “Open up! Open up right now!”

The Doctor nearly tripped over himself as he scrambled to shush the goblin, but Rose beat him to it. “Sir Didymus. Hush,” Rose said, tone sharp. “We have to go quietly. You’ll wake the guard.” 

“No offense, my lady, but that’s nonsense,” he barked haughtily, throwing his head around. “I will fight anyone! Anywhere! Anytime!” 

Hoggle rolled his eyes at the ordeal. “I wouldn’t worry ‘bout him actually,” said the goblin, keeping his volume normal. He batted a hand toward the sleeping guard, who was snoring loudly. “This one’s a decoy. The real trouble’s behind the gate.” 

Sir Didymus snapped his mouth shut. “Oh, so he is not-”

“A threat?” Hoggle cackled. “No. Getting past this gate takes no effort. But the whole stinkin' city will be alarmed once we pass through."

The Doctor flitted his gaze around the perimeter of the city. “Then what do you think?” he asked Hoggle, open to suggestions. 

“Er, well I,” Hoggle stumbled, placing his hands in his pockets nervously. “I don’t know. Sorry. My job is supposed to lead people out of the labyrinth, remember?” He cringed, embarrassed by his position. “I’m a bit useless here, other than knowing the guard. And that’s only cause he frequents the pub.” 

“You’re not useless Hoggle,” said Rose, smiling at him. “We never would have gotten this far without you.”

Ludo picked at his ears, oblivious to the time constraints at play. He raised his head up, then pointed. “We climb?” the orange goblin proposed. 

As the Doctor began to consider the, slightly ridiculous, idea, he heard a caw. So did everyone else, for the group turned around and saw what else, but their favorite barn owl. It flew toward them at great speed.

“Birdie!” proclaimed Ludo, a wide smile decorating his expression. 

The owl swept forward above their heads, then perched at the top of the outer wall, near the crown sculpture. It cawed in greeting. 

“Why I never,” said Sir Didymus, head upturned. “Such a rude interruption.” 

“Oh shut it,” said Hoggle, hands on hips. He nodded at the owl. “This one’s a friend.” 

The Doctor smiled, amused that Hoggle now freely threw around the word. He looked at the bird and bent his head in respect. “Hello again.” 

The owl twitched in response. Then, it bent its beak down and twisted the tip of the crown. There was a loud click, followed by a low rumble. 

Hoggle widened his eyes. “Woah,” he said, holding his hands out. “Back up everyone.” 

Members of the group listened diligently, moving away from the entrance of the gate. All the while, the guard remained sleeping. The ground suddenly tilted downward, like an earthquake had broken the plates of the world. The once flat, solid dirt floor curved mechanically, transforming into steps. A staircase appeared, leading beneath the city's surface. 

“Steady Ambrisious,” said Sir Didymus, petting the side of his dog. It whined, bothered by the noise. 

Hoggle’s mouth went agape, and once the staircase steadied, he walked forward. “I don’t believe it,” he said, “I thought this was just a rumor.” 

“Rumor?” asked Rose, daring enough to approach the new path. 

“An underground path that leads straight to the castle,” answered Hoggle, looking up at the owl. “And that bird somehow unlocked it.” 

Despite Hoggle’s confoundment, the Doctor was grateful for any quick solution. The owl cawed again, then flew up, and into the depths below the city, disappearing into the darkness. It was telling them to follow it. The Doctor was sure enough of that. 

Rose narrowed her eyes at the staircase, deep in thought. “What is it?” the Doctor asked, unsure what she was noticing. 

Then, she raised her brows and smiled slightly. “I think I know who he is. It all makes sense now."  

He . There was that choice of pronoun again. Rose knew distinctly who the owl was. Her memories of the film must be returning. However, instead of questioning further, the Doctor put enough trust in Rose to recognize what she thought. “You can tell me later,” he said.

A look of sadness tainted her face. The Doctor knew why. There might not be a later. But instead of saying as much, Rose looked at the Doctor and nodded. “Later,” she said, softly.

So into the underground they went, accompanied by their small army: a fox, a brute, a gardener, a human, and a Time Lord. The Toymaker hardly stood a chance.

Chapter Text

“How you turn my world, you precious thing

You starve and near exhaust me

Everything I've done, I've done for you

I move the stars for no one”

- David Bowie, “Within You”

********

The underground path was checkered black and white. Amber curtains hung from high above, flowing with that mysterious, ever-persistent labyrinthian breeze. As the Doctor, Rose, and their goblin friends moved forward, the Time Lord became better aware of the game being played. He was a pawn on a chess board, inching closer to the king. 

Thankfully, they had a guide: a brilliant white owl, gifting its secrets. When he first saw the bird, the Doctor thought it had been sent to make them lost. But like he’d learned during his time in the maze, nothing was as it seemed.

Tense with the outlook of their quest, members of the group went silent. The usual quips and arguments ceased as soon as they descended beneath the city and approached the castle. Hoggle nervously twitched his fingers. Ludo nervously looked back and forth. Sir Didymus twitched his nose as he kept a steady grip on his saddle, his dog shaking slightly with fear. 

Then there was Rose. She held her head high, each step full of purpose. The woman was afraid, that the Doctor could sense from the quiver of her lips or the tremble of her uneven breaths. Yet, she was a mother on a mission, determined to save what she held dearest. 

While they walked through their final road to the center of the labyrinth, the Doctor stole glances at the woman he loved. When she caught him, she smiled; the curve of her lips imprinting its image into his hearts. Things would be different when he settled back home. No more hushed whispers. No more burying Rose Tyler deep within his mind. Such beauty and brilliance deserved to shine in the light of the open day. He would talk about Rose, remember Rose, and boldly declare his love as he did for so many others now. The Doctor had changed, and it was about time he let the memory of her be a part of that. 

The checkered floor ended with a large staircase. It led up to what the Doctor assumed was the castle interior. Nothing had interrupted their invasion so far, but the Toymaker had to be aware of their presence. His shadow had loomed over them through each twist and turn in the labyrinth. It was only a matter of time before he struck again.

Following the owl’s path, the group rushed up the steps and found themselves in the throne room. It was smaller than the Doctor would have expected, but just as dirty. Small batches of hay were strewn across the stone floors. Random junk littered the room, a small center pit filled with pillows, iron helmets, and rotting fruit. Candles decorated the walls, the hardened form of melted wax hanging over the sides.

The Doctor was innately suspicious. At the edge of the room sat the throne; the unoccupied seat of the Goblin King. Why wasn’t the Toymaker here? “I don’t understand,” he said, glancing around. “He said the girls would be in the castle.” 

“They are,” Rose answered, confidently. “Just not here.” She pointed to an exit on the other side, one that that owl already perched above. “That’s the only way he could have gone. I remember.” 

Amidst Rose’s words, the Doctor heard a ticking noise. Behind him was a large, green rusted clock. Both the golden minute hand was poised dangerously close to the thirteenth symbol. Better hurry, he thought. 

“Right,” agreed Hoggle, straightening his posture, “come on.” He waved his hand at the other two goblins, beckoning them ahead. 

But Rose held out a hand. “Wait,” she said, biting her lip. “Are you sure you want to come with us? It’s not too late for you three to turn back.” Ever kind, Rose was still giving their friends a way out of danger. 

“Fat chance,” wheezed Hoggle, if a bit nervously. “I’ve spent too much of my life a coward. It’s time to change.” 

“Milady,” said Sir Didymus, gripping the edge of his saddle, “I shall fight to the end with you both.” The fox lifted his scepter in support.  

“Ludo help too,” added the orange giant, raising his head. 

The corners of the Doctor’s lips upturned. He had entered this labyrinth viewing everything with a trace of doubt. Now, he was at the end, having made friends with its inhabitants. This parallel world, which the Toymaker had stolen, had a people that deserved saving. Here were their champions, willing to defend what was right. 

“Brilliant,” he said, nodding to each in thanks, “let’s finish this.” 

Rose looked toward the owl, who titled his head at the group. She grinned, and said: “Lead the way.” 

But as the Doctor stepped forward, his foot met no ground. He barely had a moment to react, for soon he began to sink. Rose and the goblins let out collective screams as darkness swallowed them whole. Only the panicked screech of an owl could be heard over their cries. 

********

Once again, the world was falling. Pieces of the castle floated amidst a stormy horizon, a blend of the outside and inside worlds. Rose yelled out for the Doctor as she fell backward, but it was no use. Bracing for impact, she was surprised to find herself gently floating down to the floor. She landed on her two feet, the Doctor joining her. 

Rose remained tense as she glanced around. The dark cobblestone room was unfamiliar. Was this the castle dungeon? She was about to ask Hoggle to confirm, before realizing the goblin’s absence. “Doctor,” she said carefully, “where’s-”

But her question was interrupted by bombastic carnival music. Rose and the Doctor turned around to find a towering stage structure. Lights turned on, briefly blinding the pair. As Rose adjusted to the brightness, she noticed the circular structure of the room. They stood in a large amphitheater. Hundreds of eyes peered down at Rose, a chill running through her body as she pieced things together. Goblins filled every seat, ready for a show to begin. However, instead of cheering or screaming, the goblins sat in silence, tense with anticipation. Those closest to her had strange expressions on their faces; a mixture of fear and confusion. What were they here to watch? 

Rose suddenly found herself warped on the large center stage. Her head pounded, and an intense feeling of vertigo overcame her. Once she gained her bearings, she saw that the Doctor was posed stage right, equally confused as to how he got there. If this was the Toymaker’s finale, he was intent on making it a theatrical one. 

“Commencing! Commencing!” sounded a familiar faux-German voice. “Our worldwide premiere soon begins, but first, a word from the director.” A spotlight turned on the stage. Then, a lone figure emerged from the darkness at the edge of the curtains. 

“Hang on,” said the Doctor, recognition clear. “That’s…”

Into the light stepped the peach merchant; that malicious mole who forced them to eat the fruit. Now its squinting eyes revealed so much more. It smiled widely at the pair, then clapped its hands together. “Well, well,” it spoke, the voice well-known to Rose, “and to think you almost slept through our show. Pity.” The mole’s body elongated, slowly adopting more human proportions. Its face horrifically twisted into a recognizable one. As the merchant’s paws morphed into hands, it snapped, and the peach merchant’s true identity was revealed. 

“Toymaker,” snarled the Doctor. 

However, before he could act, the Time Lord was plopped onto a wooden chair. Rose suffered the same fate, some unseen force controlling her body. The Toymaker raised his hands out, then pulled them to his chest. In unison with the movement, Rose and the Doctor’s chairs scratched along the surface of the stage, floated off the edge, and then landed front and center in the audience. Rose’s arms were held against the arms of her chair, unable to move. She shot a panicked look to the Doctor, whose expression matched her own. 

“How good it is to see you both!” The Toymaker giggled, uncaring for their discomfort. “Been a while, ya? But don’t you worry, I was keeping a close eye. Please forgive the disguise. I do enjoy dress up.” His outfit now was unlike previous imitations of Labyrinth’s Goblin King. The Toymaker wore a long, velvety cape lined with white fur. Underneath was a black, medieval-style tunic. Atop his head sat a gaudy, golden crown; a distinctly costumey accessory. It was a bold declaration of his kingship, even if Rose found the outfit quite childish. 

“You poisoned us,” accused Rose, still bitter. 

The Toymaker rolled his eyes. “Oh stop that. I gave you a gift!” He swished his cape as he took a step to the edge of the stage. “I thought you would enjoy the dance.” 

“Never mind that,” said the Doctor, tone curt. He sat next to Rose, and yet the invisible restraints made her feel a world apart from him. “Where are the girls? We’re here, Toymaker, just like you said. The center of the labyrinth, and the thirteen hours aren’t up.” 

“Why Doctor, I’m so glad you asked!” The Toymaker smiled, white teeth shining. “Let me introduce our players this evening.” He held out a hand and he stepped to the side of the stage as two teenage girls emerged. 

“Mia!” Rose cried.  At the same time, the Doctor shouted his niece’s name. 

Mia and Rose Noble stood side by side in complete paralysis. It reminded Rose of how her daughter looked in the static light of her home television. Still on pause, her daughter was. The girl's expression was tense with grief. 

“Mia!” Rose shouted again, fighting back tears. “Can you hear me? It’s mummy. I’m here.” 

“Oh don’t worry,” said the Toymaker, batting a hand in dismissal. “Little Mia can hear you. Just can’t move a muscle, the poor dear.” He frowned, glancing at Rose Noble, a semblance of rage on her face. “Same with the Noble girl. So much fire in that one. Just like her mumsy.” 

“Let them go, Toymaker,” the Doctor warned. 

The Toymaker's face twisted with displeasure. “Don’t interrupt me, Doctor. It’s quite rude. Especially when the other cast have yet to be introduced.” 

A low drumming sound echoed, followed by the crash of a symbol as three goblins appeared on stage. Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus were poised in unnatural positions. However, there was no sign of the owl. Maybe he had evaded the Toymaker’s grip. Unfortunately, the goblins weren’t as lucky. Each stood with their hands upward, tied to thin black strings that stretched up to the top of the stage. 

Unlike the girls, the goblins were all free to move their faces. Sir Didymus moaned as he attempted to free himself from the strings. “I-I don’t know what’s happening,” the fox said, his normally triumphant tone absent. He looked down at his dog, the edges of his body also tied up with string. “Ambrosius, I am sorry.” 

Despite his strength, Ludo also failed to set his binds loose. “String bad,” he muttered, expression dismayed. 

However, Hoggle attempted no such escape. Instead, he found Rose and the Doctor’s faces and held their gaze. “Don’t listen to a damn thing this fool says,” the goblin shot a dirty look at the Toymaker. “That’s the trick.” 

“Hogwart, you should submit to your new king,” said the Toymaker, accent changing to British. “It would make things so much easier for you.”

“It's Hoggle! And you ain't my king,” said Hoggle, sternly. His bangle of jewels chimed as he attempted to jerk toward the Toymaker. “Damn you. I don't even like Jareth, but he had his limits!” 

“You’d do well never to utter that name,” said the Toymaker, entirely furious at Hoggle’s outburst. He was angrier than Rose had ever seen him. “Just for that, why don’t you and your friends kick off our performance?”

The Toymaker waved his hand and the three goblins began to kick their legs up and down. New music began to play as the goblins enacted an eerily perfect can-can line. “Woah! Slow Ambrisious,” said Sir Didymus, trying not to fall off his dog as it bounced. 

Ludo roared, his giant body becoming a prison of movement. 

“Don’t resist it!” yelled the Doctor, concern painted across his brow. “You’ll only make it worse. Just play along!” 

“Ain’t got a choice anyhow, Doctor,” yelled Hoggle. The Toymaker moved his hand back and forth, conducting the dance.  

“Ugh, you goblins are cuter when you can’t speak.” The Toymaker made a fist, stopping the music and dance. Then, he clapped his hands and the three goblins poofed into glitter. When the dust cleared, Rose could see three small plush toys resting where their friends once were. 

Rose’s breathing quickened, part of her still in shock. “What did you do to them?”

“Turn them back, Toymaker,” said the Doctor, his gaze murderous. 

“I don’t think so. They’ll make for good props,” said the Toymaker, wiggling his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, then paused as an idea crossed his mind. Smirking, the Toymaker clapped his hands again, and the two girls turned into toys as well. 

“No!” screamed Rose and the Doctor screamed. 

“Don’t worry, they’re all fine,” the Toymaker said dismissively. He sat at the edge of the stage, staring down at the Time Lord and human. “I’ll return them to their proper place. At least, when we wrap up here.” 

Unexpectedly, Rose found herself released from her chair, her body jerking forward. She blinked and was onstage again, the Doctor beside her. 

The Time Lord straightened his shoulders, glaring at his enemy dead-on. “Toymaker,” he said, with gravitas, “I challenge you to a game.” 

But the Toymaker only giggled. “Oh Doctor, that won’t work here, you silly boy.” 

The Doctor’s mouth twitched. “Why not? It’s your one rule. The one thing you’re bound to always accept.” 

But somehow, Rose understood the Toymaker’s glee. She thought back about the rules of Labyrinth, and how events played out in the film. “Because it’s a different world, Doctor.” Rose looked at the Toymaker. “These aren’t your powers, are they? You stole them from this world’s king.” 

The Doctor’s brow scrunched as he thought over something. “Yes, you said you challenged the Goblin King and he lost,” the Time Lord recited to the Toymaker. “It granted you cer -”

“ Certain powers, yes, all this I know,” the Toymaker straightened his crown, unbothered. 

“Then there must be a way to beat you,” concluded the Doctor, breathing in. “I just don’t know what it is.” 

The Doctor was right. If the Toymaker took over for the Goblin King, it’s not like that king was without weakness. Rose replayed the film’s final scene in her head. There was a string of words; a sentence that could defeat this world’s ruler. 

But the Toymaker wouldn’t have it. Instead, he moved for distraction. “Don’t you see what I’m trying to give you?” The Toymaker groaned, frustration imminent. “I’m being generous!” 

Rose scoffed. “Generous?” Is that what he called it? “ What have you done that’s generous?” She resisted the urge to spit in his face, but her heart pounded a little faster. These words being recited… were the lines Sarah said in the film. It was coming back to her. 

“Why do you need us?” The Doctor pressed a hand on the center of his chest. “Why are you so insistent that we keep up with these games?” 

The Toymaker tilted his head back and laughed, heartily. “Oh splendid,” he said, amused. “Do you two still not know how I managed to get you here?”

For a moment, Rose thought she saw white feathers rush past her. But perhaps she was wrong because no owl appeared. Only the Toymaker stood in front of her. “What do you mean?” she asked. 

The beast crossed his arms and shook his head. “Think hard. What is it that you told your daughter before coming here? What is it that you wished for?” 

And then it dawned on Rose. A wish.

“I wish I had another chance, a chance to speak with him.” 

Rose had meant it, willed it. But…if the Doctor was here, that had to mean….

Rose’s eyes flitted to the Time Lord, whose expression went grave. His brown gaze reflected a deep regret; a yearning she couldn’t put a name to. He had wished the same thing, and that connection was enough to pull them through the void, and into a parallel world. 

“The same wish, uttered by two souls across universes,” the Toymaker held out his hands in the presentation. “I could hardly believe my luck. That’s real power. That’s magic!” He snapped his fingers and the room rumbled, causing the Doctor and Rose to fall to their knees. “You both got your happy ending, and it still wasn’t enough. Typical.” The Toymaker swished his cape backward. 

“So what are you saying?” The Doctor tilted his head, cautiously measuring the Toymaker’s meaning. 

The Toymaker smiled, pleased by this reaction. Behind him, the green rusted clock of the throne room reappeared. “I can re-order time,” he said, lifting a finger, then twisting it. Slowly, the clock hands spun backward, turning away from the thirteenth hour. “I turn the world upside down, but only if I have you two.” 

“You need us,” Rose realized, putting the pieces together. “Our dreams, our memories. They feed into the labyrinth, don’t they?” It all made sense now. Bad Wolf Bay in the gallery, the ballroom dream, the fake TARDIS in the junkyard; all these pieces were made because of a connection to Rose and the Doctor’s mind. That’s how this world worked. It was designed to adapt to the people who inhabited it, who took on the maze’s challenge. Maybe that's why she was struggling to remember throughout the journey. The Toymaker had been picking away pieces of her mind for his own benefit. 

The Toymaker twirled his hand, a crystal ball appearing. He held it up to Rose and the Doctor. Rose saw a movement from within. It was her and the Doctor running, hand in hand, through the maze. “Look what I’m offering you.” The ball shone with an iridescent light. “Your dreams. You’ll have each other. A never-ending adventure.” 

Rose could picture it. She and the Doctor in the labyrinth, making friends and foes, fighting good and evil, until the end of time. But Rose had enough dreams for today, and this was a fool’s one. The Toymaker’s bargain couldn’t be fair, not if he were to win. 

“What’s the cost?” asked the Doctor, in tune with Rose’s thoughts. “There’s always a cost.” 

“I’ll have to keep the girls in the castle,” said the Toymaker, pouting his lips. “A game is only fun when the people are playing for a prize.” 

And there it was: the one thing someone should never, ever do to a parent: threaten their child. Rose narrowed her gaze at the Toymaker. “You’ll never have us then,” she said, staring him down. Beside her, she could feel the flex of the Doctor's fingers, entwining with hers. 

“No, you won’t,” said the Time Lord, squeezing Rose’s hand. 

There was a brief pause as the Toymaker surveyed Rose and the Doctor’s faces. His expression went wild, twitching his cheeks and eyes as he dealt with the pair’s rejection. However, it relaxed, and a smug smile once again took over. “Fine,” he said, “we’ll just have to do this the hard way then.” 

The Toymaker raised his hand, and Rose and the Doctor flew up in the air. Rose screamed as the Doctor yelled her name back. The stage floor cracked open, and green vines rushed out to meet the pair. The two were soon entangled in the grip of thorns, torn apart from the comfort of one another. 

“The thing is, for this game to start again, I need one of you to make a wish,” said the Toymaker, clenching his fist. As he did, the vines around the Doctor and Rose went tighter. “It’s unfortunately one of the few rules I must follow. Small price to pay for being king here.” 

A thorn buried itself into Rose’s cardigan, almost piercing her side. Still, she resisted. “No,” said Rose. “You can’t make us.” 

The Toymaker giggled. “Want to test that theory?” 

The thorns tightened against them, causing the Doctor to groan. Rose fought against the pressure, but caught a glimpse of the sinister collection of toys; the ones that housed the souls of her friends and daughter. They still rested on the stage. The toy faces were permanently scarred with expressions of fear. Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, Rose Noble…and Mia Tyler. The Toymaker stood triumphantly. Gone were the silly accents and pompous behavior. The Toymaker stood his ground now, taking on the mantra of his self-imposed regality. 

Rose looked toward the Doctor, whose face was warped with pain. “We can’t beat him, Rose,” said the Doctor, energy strained. “Not like this.” His voice was faint, the wind knocked out of him. “Not alone.” 

That’s when she saw it again: the outline of a white owl in the corner of her eye. He was always watching, always near. A king in wait. He had led them through the labyrinth. He had taken him exactly where they needed to go. And now, it was time for Rose to repay the debt. She and the Doctor weren’t alone. Not at all. 

So Rose did what the Doctor least expected: she called for the Toymaker. Rose screamed the beast’s name, capturing his attention. The Toymaker instantly twisted his head in her direction. “Oh? Made a choice, have you?” he giggled, twirling his hand. The movement jerked the Rose and the Doctor upward, breaking the vines.  

“I’ll make a wish,” she said, looking toward the Doctor. His face was wrought with tension, but his eyes reflected a pure, intense feeling of trust. He believed in Rose, and that alone gave her wings. The Toymaker’s eyes twinkled with amusement, waiting with bated breath for his next aid to torture. Little did he know, Rose was about to be his undoing. 

“I wish,” she said, letting the momentum of the moment build up. She had to say it with just the right meaning, or else it wouldn’t work. Rose clenched her fists, her heart beating fast. If she was wrong, the words she was about to speak would dearly cost her. But if she was right, then they just might be enough to save them all. 

And so, Rose said the words. Holding her head high, she uttered: “I wish to set the Goblin King free.” 

Something in the world shifted. A tug against Rose’s heart was set loose. The Toymaker’s sneer dropped. He opened his mouth, as if to scream, cry out at Rose for making such a ridiculous statement. However, no sound emerged. Instead, silence prevailed. 

The Toymaker gripped at his throat startled. Then, a loud rush of wind swept through the theater, dropping the temperature immensely. A snap sounded, the vines binding the Doctor breaking loose. Rose rushed toward him, helping the Doctor up from the ground. As he gained footing beside her, the stage spotlights went completely dark. Rose heard the swoop of wings as the quiet took over.

Then came the outburst of noise. Hundreds of voices began to whisper as the goblins in the theater stands finally began speaking. Their chatter filled the room but was quickly outmatched by a rumble of thunder crashing above their heads. Still, Rose could hear the flapping of wings as the white owl landed on the stage floor. She held her breath, watching it carefully. Nearby, the Toymaker leaned back, as if afraid.  

Please, Rose thought, please let me be right. 

The wind picked up, blowing the crown flat off the Toymaker’s head. He fell to the ground, unable to pick himself back up. A flash of lightning appeared, summoning a shadow beneath the owl. Rose knew it. She had seen it on her television when this had all started. Only this time the shadow wasn’t an impression of the Toymaker’s: it was real. It was magic. 

The shadow grew larger, and as the wind picked up again, Rose lifted her gaze. There was no longer a bird, only a man. Blonde hair glimmered amidst the flashes of white lightning. A smoky eyeshadow outlined his gaze, piercing itself into Rose’s mind. His long feathered cape and frilled gray shift ruffled in the wind; a mere echo of his previous form. 

The Doctor’s mouth went agape. “Is…is that…” 

But the Doctor never finished his sentence, because the blonde man standing before them raised a gloved hand. Twisting it, he summoned a crystal orb, then raised it to his eyeline. He smiled, delight clear across his sharp cheekbones and long face. 

“Well, well,” he spoke, his mismatched blue and brown eyes turning to the pair, “took you both long enough.” His low voice held a trembling potential, one that could shape the world according to his will. And he very much had the power to, because this was his kingdom. He was Jareth, the labyrinth’s Goblin King.

Chapter Text

“Will you stay in our lover's story?

If you stay, you won't be sorry

'Cause we believe in you”

- David Bowie, “Kooks”

********

As the Doctor struggled against thorny binds, with thousands of goblin eyes looming over him, he found it difficult to hope. The last time he defeated the Toymaker, his mind, body, and soul had been torn apart. He didn’t know if he could survive that again. Bi-generation was a mystery, even to him. Yet, the Doctor desperately clung to life, like a candle in the wind. 

And what kept that candle’s flame burning bright? Rose. Always Rose. Like the Doctor told the beast, imprisoned in the chambers of Krop Tor, if he believed in one thing, he believed in her . And because of her, their savior had been set free. 

When Rose made her wish, the fabric of reality had undone itself. The magic of the labyrinth reawakened to greet its one true ruler. Clad in a feathery cape, the legend sprung to life, standing before them now. With piercing judgment, Jareth’s blue and brown eyes scrutinized his audience.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” asked Rose, half in awe, half in disbelief. “You’re the Goblin King.” 

Jareth smiled slightly, pointed teeth peeking out. “All that and more.” He twisted his crystal orb back and forth between either side of his hand, delighted by his own trick. Once satisfied, it vanished from his grasp. The voices of the goblin audience increased in volume, causing Jareth to look up to the amphitheater stands. Surveying his subjects, he waved his hands, and the thousands of goblins disappeared in a puff of glittery smoke. “How rude,” he said, words directed toward the Toymaker, “making them watch your silly performance. I can’t think of anything more dreadful.” 

“Where did they go?” The Doctor asked, concerned about the whereabouts of such a populous group. Even if Jareth was the labyrinth’s rightful ruler, there was something distrustful about him; a mischievous countenance. 

“Back where they belong,” answered Jareth. “They’ve been kept in the dark for so long. My city is a dreadful place when empty.” At last, context for the silence of the world above. “While I love a good chat,” Jareth continued, “there’s a bug I need to squash.” An unseemly expression crossed his face, one that the Doctor easily recognized: the onset of rage.

Slowly, the Goblin King turned his head toward the Toymaker, still frozen on the floor. “Jareth,” said the fallen villain, lips curling in displeasure.

“Toymaker,” replied the Goblin King, entirely unamused. “I must say, your impressions of me were rather appalling, but this,” Jareth waved his hand toward the Toymaker, the movement carefully nonchalant, “is just hideous.”  

Despite his initial fear, the Toymaker didn’t take kindly to insults. His face morphed into a snarl. “We had a deal. I won our game,” he said, facing his enemy. “That makes me king .” 

“What did I tell you?” The Goblin King strolled toward the Toymaker, the sound of his heels clicking against the stone. “I warned you of the rules of my labyrinth. A wish is a wish. And what’s said is said,” uttered Jareth, deriving a sick pleasure from the fallout of his foe. 

The Toymaker flung out his hands, an orchestral move that beckoned magnificent power. Yet, as his limbs moved, no magic graced the air; no spark ignited. Instead, the Goblin King laughed, a deep, hearty laugh.

“You’re no match for me,” said Jareth, a contemptuous sneer overcoming his face. “Not anymore.” 

At last, the Toymaker’s expression morphed into that of his victims: fear. The monster was utterly helpless; a false god whose altar had been destroyed. “But…” he began to say.

“I’ll do you the same courtesy you extended to me,” said Jareth, extending his hands, “To be bound to a form from which you cannot escape.” 

The Toymaker’s eyes met the Doctor’s: two celestials beholden to the other. That devious twinkle was gone, replaced by the emptiness of defeat. The Doctor had seen this stare before. It was the kind monsters often had when their empires crumbled. They resorted to a final manipulation, an appeal to their moral betters. The Toymaker’s eyes were soft, looking at the Doctor as if he were an old friend. 

They’d spent millennia as adversaries. The Toymaker understood the Doctor more than many of the Time Lord’s friends had, but he had used that knowledge for evil. Despite winning his freedom from banishment, and becoming lord of a parallel world, the Toymaker still chased after the Doctor, unable to let him be free. For that, he had ordained his own downfall. The Toymaker surveyed the Doctor now, asking to be saved . It was a desperate attempt to take advantage of the Doctor’s goodwill. After all, the Time Lord had been kind even to those who treated him most contemptuously. 

Yet, the Doctor’s gaze remained firm. The Toymaker had enough chances, enough games where he emerged victorious. And still, he committed the greatest sin of all: harming those the Doctor loved dearest. That was the one thing the Time Lord could never forgive. Mercy would not be afforded. So the Doctor gifted the Toymaker a final stare of his own. His eyes told a single, damning message: this is your end.

The Toymaker's face dropped, and his last chance evaporated. Then, Jareth snapped his fingers, and the Toymaker’s human form evaporated in a puff of smoke. His costume fell to the ground, the golden crown clinking as it fell to the stone floor. There was a moment of complete silence before the Doctor heard the light sound of chirping. 

Pleased with himself, Jareth stepped toward the clothes and lifted out his hand. From the pile emerged a small, black, and blue magpie, who flew up and landed on the Goblin King’s arm. “There we are,” said Jareth, smiling with crooked teeth. “Far easier on the eyes, aren’t you?” 

Even if the Doctor agreed that the Toymaker deserved punishment, he was still disturbed by the transformation “Is he,” the Time Lord paused, considering his words, “still conscious?” 

Although, Jareth didn’t pay the Doctor’s question much mind, electing to examine his new creation. “More or less,” he finally answered, “but his mind is contained to the limits of this form. He’ll never want for much. He lacks the capacity for grander dreams. That’s the rule of my game. Now then,” he told the bird, “off with you.” The magpie opened its wings and flew away. There was no grand departure. No final giggle. Only the flutter of feathers, barely heard in the wind. For a being as theatrical as the Toymaker, the Doctor could think of no greater insult. 

The Doctor let himself rest with the matter. Years of fighting, now come to an end. “What now?” he wondered aloud. It was a pertinent question. With the Toymaker gone, left an avalanche of fallout to deal with. 

“I have a few things to see to in my labyrinth,” said Jareth, crossing his arms in thought. “So much has been reordered.” 

Rose, who had remained mostly silent until now, spoke up. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked Jareth. 

The Goblin King looked at Rose. “What?” He raised a brow, the expression rather rude for someone who had just been saved by the woman it faced. 

Rose narrowed her gaze at the Goblin King. “Our children. Our friends. Can you bring them back?” The pile of toys still sat on the stage, silently waiting to be set free. A chill ran down the Doctor’s spine as he gazed upon them. The lifelessness of those cloth eyes disturbed him greatly. 

The Goblin King’s brows relaxed, as if remembering the existence of whom Rose spoke of. “Ah yes, I almost forgot.” An afterthought, that’s what the Toymaker’s victims amounted to. While the Doctor was grateful for Jareth’s arrival, he was already developing a distaste for the monarch. 

Jareth turned toward the stage. With the raise of a hand, the toys magically reshaped into their natural selves. The girls gasped for air, clutching at their shirts. The three goblins were equally shaken, greatly disoriented by what occurred. Hoggle was especially alarmed, shaking his head as he woke himself from that terrible nightmare.

Eager to reunite, the Doctor and Rose moved toward the stage. However, Jareth held out a hand, stopping them. “Listen closely,” he said, his tone curt, “You have one hour to bid your goodbyes. Nothing more. Then, I will send you back from whence you came.” Jareth raised his head, his mismatched eyes looking on at the pair in disapproval. “My labyrinth is not a place for people like you.” 

Rose scoffed, annoyed at the interference. The Doctor knew she was anxious to go to Mia, just as he was to see his niece. “If it weren’t for us, you’d still be an owl,” Rose said, defending herself. 

“For that, you have my gratitude,” said Jareth, still stern. “But the Toymaker came from your world. He made a game out of my kingdom to hurt the both of you. Don’t begrudge me for the prejudice.” 

The Doctor frowned. While he understood Jareth’s apprehension, he found the Goblin King’s position to be quite unsympathetic. “That’s not fair.” 

To this, Jareth seemed to derive some amusement. He smiled, the expression nearly as sinister as the Toymaker’s. The Doctor didn’t believe there was ill intent behind it, but that did nothing to quell the unease he felt. “No. It’s not,” said the Goblin King. With that, Jareth faded away, not wasting a further word on the pair. The Doctor was sure this wouldn’t be their final encounter with the aloof ruler. He would be back, in time. 

********

Upon Jareth’s exit, Rose was prepared to sprint toward the stage, finally to reunite with her daughter. However, Mia had beaten her to it. As the Goblin King issued his warning, Rose’s daughter picked herself up and made her way toward her mother. Shortly after Jareth disappeared, Mia crashed into Rose’s arms. 

“Mum,” she cried, her voice weary. Mia sounded so tired and beaten that Rose was instantly brought to tears. Her little girl, safe at last, but not without battle scars. 

“I’m sorry I took so long,” she said, crushing Mia with a tight hug. Rose had found her daughter, and by god, she was not letting go. Her heart was filled with a profound pang of love, calm, and concern. 

Mia lifted her head, intent on looking her mother in the eye. Her face now was a far cry from the one she bore during their argument, the inciting incident to this endeavor. “How did you do it? After what I said,” her lip quivered, the shame of her former anger washing over her, “you still fought for me.” 

Out of everything Mia could have said, this hurt Rose the most. When they returned home, there was much work to be done to repair their strained relationship. But for now, Rose could begin to pick up the pieces and start the work of repair. “Do you think I care for you so little that a few words would make a difference? You’re my daughter,” said Rose, cupping Mia’s cheeks. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you.”

Overwhelmed, Mia lowered her head and pressed it into Rose’s shoulder. “I love you, Mum” she whispered. 

Rose combed her fingers through Mia’s hair. “I love you too.” 

Pressing a kiss against her daughter’s temple, she looked up to see the Doctor reuniting with his niece. Wrapped in a hug of his own, the Time Lord still found Rose’s face. Their story had ended in triumph, and for that, celebrations were due. Yet, as they smiled at one another, fighting through tears of happiness and relief, a shared thought overcame them both. 

This was the last verse of their song.

Chapter Text

"Prayers, they hide the saddest view

(Believing the strangest things, loving the alien)

And your prayers, they break the sky in two"  

- David Bowie, “Loving the Alien”

********

“Are you sure you’re fine?” asked the Doctor, watching his niece. Post Jareth’s departure, the two had separated from the celebratory crowd. They stood near a window, the orange haze of a sunset casting its beautiful rays on the pair. The sounds of the Tylers and their goblin friends conversing drifted over their heads. 

While Rose Noble put up a brave face, the Time Lord was worried about her. She was in the Toymaker’s captivity for the past thirteen hours. Most humans couldn’t survive a minute in the being’s presence. It wasn't until she was safely wrapped in his arms that he felt assured of her physical safety. As for her mental, that was to be decided. 

She crossed her arms and leaned back on a stone wall, eyes closed. “I’m exhausted,” his niece sighed. “We’ll see about fine when we get home.” She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. 

Home. Such a treacherous little word. It offered safety and comfort; a shield from the terrors outside its walls. But home didn’t safeguard everything, certainly not the woman he loved. No, she had her own to get back to. Despite his best efforts to stay attentive on Rose Noble, on occasion, his gaze betrayingly drifted to Rose the elder. 

Clever as she was, his niece easily noticed this. “So it’s her?” she asked, a kind expression on her face. 

The Doctor smiled lightly. “Yes,” he spoke, still not quite believing his luck. “It’s Rose Tyler.” 

“That’s,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief, “wizard.” Rose Noble uncrossed her arms and pushed off the wall, walking toward the Doctor. “It’s hard to process that she’s real. She always sounded more like a storybook character than an actual person.” 

The Doctor recalled their conversation in the house shed. Rose Noble was so much like her mother, always pushing him to heal, to talk. Although, he had an inkling that Donna would be rightfully pissed off when she found out about this. “Rose,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “you don’t think we can keep this labyrinth ordeal between us?” 

“Oh, she’s never gonna let you hear the end of this.” She grinned, almost delighted in seeing the Doctor chewed out by her mother. “Remember Mars?” 

The Doctor cringed. Yes, he did remember Donna’s reaction to the secret Mars trip. “Something tells me this will go over worse,” he said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

“Well, just know that I’ve got you,” she said, squeezing the Doctor’s shoulder. “Thank you, Doctor, for saving me. Now,” Rose bobbed her head in the direction of her namesake, “go on then.” 

“Would you like to meet her?” the Doctor offered, spying the hidden curiosity. 

“I should think so,” she said, appreciative. However, his niece made no means to move. “But, I think for the little time we have left here, it should belong to you two.” Her brows creased in sympathy, and the Doctor in instant understanding. 

Here was Rose Noble pushing him to have that difficult conversation again. The Doctor glanced toward the Tylers and smiled sadly. “Perhaps,” he conceded.

The Doctor walked toward the Tylers. Rose waved, ushering him closer. She was so much more at ease, now that she found her daughter. Yet, that thin layer of tension remained, the knowledge of what was to come looming over. 

As the Doctor approached, he respectfully avoided eye contact with Mia. What must she think of him, her father’s double? The tender moment they shared in the depths of the gallery had strained the Doctor’s hearts. There was no doubt that it had a similar effect on her. The Doctor was a stranger to her, and she had confused him for the man who brought her up. 

“How is she?” Rose asked, bobbing her head towards the Doctor’s niece. The Noble girl had taken up a conversation, or an attempt at one, with Ludo.

“Good, all things considered,” he reported back, the unsaid already understood. Not wanting her to feel ignored, the Doctor turned his head to Mia. “Hello.”

“Hi,” she said, softly. Then, the girl stepped away, opting to let Rose and the Doctor have a moment together. Although the Time Lord knew why she acted the way she did, that didn’t mean a pang of hurt rang through him. 

The Doctor could never have that life with Rose: raising a child, living day after day as a human. But after all this labyrinth’s tricks, all the Toymaker’s ridicule, he’d been damned if he didn’t allow himself this one privilege. 

So, he asked Rose for the honor. “Would you mind if I?” The Doctor didn’t finish the question, but a strange look crossed her face, one he couldn’t immediately name. Apprehension? Approval? Distaste? However, her soft eyes made clear her answer. 

“Of course,” she said, nodding. Rose looked at her daughter. She stood aside, not fully listening to the adults. “I think it might be good for her.”

With that, Rose backed away allowing the Doctor a moment to himself. Careful not to encroach, the Doctor approached Mia but stayed a few steps away out of respect. 

“Hello,” he said, offering a kind smile. 

Mia glanced at him but quickly broke eye contact. She played with the ends of her fingers. “Hi.” 

“I know how confusing all this might be,” he said, gently, “especially when I look like…” The Doctor trailed off, not wanting to say the wrong thing. 

“Like my dad,” Mia answered for him. She bit her lip, considering him. 

“Yes,” he said, recalling their first encounter. “I’m still a Doctor though. And, well, I’m sure you know the rest.” 

She nodded, agreeing silently with him. A contemplative expression crossed her face, as debating whether or not to say something. The want won out in the end. “I didn’t mean to call you Dad, before,” said Mia, immediately cringing at her choice of words. “Well, I mean, I did, but, I…um-”

“It’s confusing, I know,” he said, hands in pockets. Their meeting in the gallery was a tumultuous tide of emotions.  “Trust me, even I’m still wrapping my head around it.” 

Mia took a deep breath, making sense of the rapid succession of thoughts in her head, no doubt. “It’s hard, seeing you,” she said, with the bluntly harsh honesty only a teenager could master. “After everything, I just want to see my dad. But…I-” she stuttered, not wanting to come across as rude. 

“But I’m not him,” he said. “I understand.” The same DNA they might share, but none of the memories, none of the moments that truly bond a father and daughter together. That chance had escaped the Doctor, long ago. 

Mia nodded, pursing her lips. The expression was so like her mother’s. She probably thought she was being unkind, but the Doctor didn’t think so. There was no guidebook for these sorts of encounters. The Doctor would just have to do what he did best: act with compassion. 

Thankfully, Mia beat him to it. “But,” she said, finally meeting his gaze, “I’m happy to have met you. I’ve always wanted to, you know?” 

“Is that so?” asked the Doctor, trying best to mask the pain those words enflamed. 

“Yes,” she said, a small smile gracing her lips. “My mum…she loves you. And I know we just met but, I can see you love her back.” Her eyes revealed that she knew the whole story, of Bad Wolf Bay and the three words that never were. To her, it was just that: a story, one written in stone. But it wasn’t that, not yet. 

“Quite right too,” said the Doctor, repeating the same words he told Mia’s mother on that beach. Not wanting to impose, the Doctor held out his hand, offering to shake hers. He had the sense Mia would be uncomfortable with anything further. “Mia Tyler, it’s been an honor.” 

Her eyes softened at his gesture, appreciative. She reached out and shook his hand back. “Same to you,” she said. 

A flush of pride ran through the Doctor, grateful to have been gifted a meeting with the daughter of the woman he loved. 

Loved. Yes, very much so, he thought. 

It was about time he told her that. 

********

“Say, it was getting damn close toward the end there,” said Hoggle, pulling up his belt. After being revived from his toy form, the goblin kept poking at bits of his body, reassuring himself that he was back to being flesh and blood. 

“But we managed,” said the Doctor, glancing toward Rose. “Thanks to her.” He wanted to speak to her, to have that final moment of confession before Jareth spun them away to their dimensions. However, he also wanted to show his appreciation for his goblin friends, especially Hoggle. The Doctor had grown quite a liking for the fellow. What he once deemed a cowardly creature, had proved himself a formidable, loyal ally. 

“I’m just happy it worked,” Rose admitted, chuckling slightly. “Would have been a shame if he really were just an owl.” 

“I’d say,” said Hoggle, shaking his head. “But I knew Jareth would show up sooner or later. He ain't nothing but persistent.” The goblin looked over his shoulder, as if nervous that the king might be watching. However, the Goblin King was yet to return. Hoggle raised his head at the Doctor and Rose. “But never mind all that. Are your youngins alright?” 

Mia and Rose Noble were chattering at the side. The girls looked shaken, but undefeated. “I think they’ll be fine,” the Doctor said. “We’ll just have to get them home soon.” 

The goblin nodded, wringing his hands together. “Well, that’s good. Labyrinth’s no place for young girls.” 

Hoggle’s comment reminded the Doctor of that oncoming departure. Before it came, he wanted to make sure the goblin got some measure of recognition. “Hoggle,” said the Time Lord, “I want to say thank you.”

Hoggle scratched the back of his neck, looking somewhat uncomfortable at the promise of praise.  “Why you ain’t have to do that,” he said, blushing. 

But the Doctor wouldn’t have that. “We would never have made it this far without your help. A little resistant at first yes,” he conceded, “but you still led Rose and I through the labyrinth.” 

“Yeah, near pissing myself every corner,” said Hoggle, a sigh of embarrassment escaping him. 

Rose kneeled, wanting to be at Hoggle’s eye level. “And what did we say? That makes you all the more brave.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. The goblin was startled, unsure what to make of human contact. Unfortunately for him, he’d have to deal with the Doctor’s hug too, for the Time Lord was soon upon him. 

“You’ve been a good friend, Hoggle,” said the Doctor, patting the goblin’s back. 

“You’re crushing me, ya know?” said the goblin, but the small curve of his lips revealed his true feelings on the matter. 

“How terrible,” joked Rose, causing Hoggle to finally crack out a full-out grin. 

Rose and the Doctor pulled away, giving Hoggle back the space he typically craved. The goblin rubbed the side of his arm, brows lowered in bashfulness. The Doctor was about to step away until Hoggle held out a hand to stop him. 

“Just one more thing,” said Hoggle, his tone firm.  

Curious, the Time Lord titled his head. “Yes?” 

“You still owe me a ruby,” Hoggle smirked, playfully. He picked up his bangle of jewels and shook it at two. 

“Hah!” the Doctor cackled, charmed by the callback. “Weren’t about to let us forget, were you?” 

Beside him, Rose laughed. The sound of it was like music to the Doctor’s ears; a song he wasn’t ready to stop hearing. “Just as well,” she said, “but we still don’t have any money.” 

Hoggle rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, putting the bangle away. “Guess I signed up for charity work,” he said, smirking slightly. The Doctor doubted the goblin would ever lose his sardonic tendencies, but it was clear he had changed. Next time someone ran the labyrinth, perhaps he’d treat them kinder. 

********

In stories such as these, farewells were an unfortunate certainty. Rose knew that well, even if the act was bittersweet. Having bid goodbye to Hoggle, the goblin had stepped aside to allow his friends the same courtesy. 

“Rose and Doctor leave now?” asked Ludo, the human woman’s arms wrapped around the giant’s torso. Rose pulled away and gave the goblin a small nod. 

“Yes,” she said, “we have our worlds to get back to.” As Rose spoke the words, her heart went aflutter. Her world, one apart from the man she spent the last thirteen hours with. 

“But we trust you’ll take good care of things around here,” added the Doctor, giving a hug to Ludo. The orange goblin’s eyes were sad, and a bit confused, but Rose felt he understood. Everything had its end, even here. 

“Do not fret, sir Ludo,” consoled Sir Didymus, lovingly rubbing his dog steed's side. Ambrosius’ ears relaxed in comfort. “While our quests do diverge, we are forever bonded in battle.” 

Rose looked down at the loyal knight and gave a respectful curtsey. The gesture felt a tad archaic but felt like the right choice to honor him. “Thank you, Sir Didymus. You were very brave.” The fox smiled widely at the compliment. 

The Doctor copied Rose’s movements, resting a hand against his torso as he bowed. “Quite the noble effort.” 

Sir Didymus nodded his head, his nose twitching as a thought struck him. “I say, it is a sorrow you must depart from us so quickly, but I am honored to have served by your sides.” 

Rose smiled sadly at the fox. “I’m afraid that’s the way it’s done.” 

“Well,” began Sir Didymus, thinking it over, “if that is the way it’s done, that is the way you must do it. But,” the knight lifted his head as his voice grew soft, “should you need us-”

“Yeah,” said Hoggle, butting in. The goblin did his best to stand tall. “Should you need us-”

“We know,” said Rose, remembering the lines of her beloved film. “We’ll call.” 

As if summoned by the words, a gust of wind blew through the theater, knocking Sir Didymus’ cap off his head. Rose looked toward where it flew and a hand snapped up to catch it; a leather-gloved hand. 

Jareth had returned. He wore an all-leather black outfit. It was just like the one the Toymaker first appeared to her in. The look suited the true Goblin King far better, holding a captivating mystique. Even the glitter lent more of an eternal presence, rather than a childish add-on. 

The Goblin King tilted his head at the group, who were all taken aback by the sudden arrival. “And who might this belong to?” he asked, shaking the hat in his hand. 

“That would be me, Your Majesty,” said Sir Didymus, bowing his head deeply. Hoggle nudged Rose’s side, guiding her to do the same. Thankfully, the Doctor, Mia, and Rose Noble got the hint too. Ludo blankly stared, awkwardly moving his body to match everyone else’s. 

Jareth tossed the hat toward the fox. “Silly of the Toymaker to tear you away from the Bog of Eternal Stench. You’ve always been my best guard.” He placed his hands on his hips, adopting a domineering stature. “But, even with his rearrangements, my labyrinth will recover.” 

Rose fought back the urge to ask a question. “By any chance,” she said, giving in, “do you know why he chose this parallel world? How did he end up here?”

“I suppose the fault lies with me, partly,” Jareth admitted, although his face betrayed no sense of guilt. “I made a wish.”

The Doctor raised his brow. “A wish?”

“For a challenge. For some excitement. It’s rather boring here. Goblins are pitiful company,” Jareth shrugged. 

“Well, those goblins helped set you free,” Rose Noble suddenly uttered, calling attention to herself. The Doctor smiled at this, pleased. 

“Yes. That’s quite rude, mind you,” the Time Lord added, wanting more respect shown to his new friends. 

“Er, I ain’t offended. Just doing my job,” said Hoggle, waving his hands. He lowered his head, cowering slightly. His fear for the Toymaker had moved aside in favor of the source of concern. The goblin was wary of his monarch’s power, perhaps for good reason. 

Jareth rolled his eyes. “See what I mean?” He snapped his fingers, and Sir Didymus, Ludo, and Hoggle all disappeared. Sensing that the Doctor and Rose were bothered by this, the Goblin King quickly justified his actions. “I sent them back to their places in the labyrinth. They’re more of use there.”

It pained Rose, how quickly the goblins had gone. But that’s how things were done here. “I see,” she said. 

The Doctor’s gaze was briefly fixed on where the goblins once were. A look of sadness crossed his face but passed on shortly. “Hang on,” he said, eyebrows narrowing at Jareth. “All of this, your subjects, your kingdom, your own body, were hurt because you were bored?” 

A cool, half-grin graced Jareth’s lips. “I’m the only one of my kind here,” he asked, voice dampened. “Don’t fault me for wanting something greater.” His tone wasn’t vulnerable, per se, but it hinted at a deeper mystery; some greater internal struggle that weighed heavy on the heart of the Goblin King. It was gone in an instant, sealed off. “You’d know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you?” 

The Doctor was caught off-guard, blinking. “And you know this, how?” he wondered. 

The Goblin King titled his head, a twinkle in his eyes. “Like calls to like.” 

As Rose watched the two verbally spar, a sinking feeling entered her chest. She still hadn’t managed to have her last conversation with the Doctor, and their time was being stalled because of this. Two immortal beings, yearning for more, and messing with the fabric of parallel worlds. Jareth and the Doctor weren't the same kind of man, but then again…they were not men at all. 

Rose took a deep breath, preparing to make the jump. “Are you going to send us home?” she asked, feeling her daughter’s gaze on her. Mia’s face was full of hope, and for that, Rose was grateful to have made the request. It had to be said. 

Jareth nodded at Rose. “I can send you home, yes,” he said, expression relaxed. “You managed to solve the labyrinth. Few have. For that, you deserve some reward.” His words were kind, yet he still looked somewhat disinterested. 

“Reward?” Rose asked, not recalling what Sarah Williams had won in the film. Part of her was still baffled that she was having this conversation with a fictional character, with David Bowie, of all people. Parallel worlds were so odd. 

Jareth’s eyes moved to the Doctor, smirking. “You’ll see what I mean. In time.” Out of nowhere, a clock chime rang. Everyone but Jareth looked up, shocked by the noise, and unsure where it came from. “Ah,” said the Goblin King, “final hours up.” He raised his hand, summoning a crystal. “It’s time to go.” 

A surge of panic overcame Rose. “Wait,” she said, looking at the Doctor. “Now?” The Time Lord’s face matched her own. 

The Doctor’s hand flexed, wanting to squeeze Rose’s, but she was apart from him. “But, Rose and I haven-” 

“Can’t they have the chance to speak?” pitched in Mia, finding her voice. She shot a sad smile toward her mother. “They’ve come all this way together. At least let them say goodbye.” 

“I said one hour, and nothing more,” Jareth narrowed his gaze. He raised the crystal, staring into it. “Funny, how the Toymaker offered you your dreams.” The Goblin King’s lips curled, reminiscing something unfamiliar to the Doctor and Rose, and maybe even himself. “I say you got to live them, for a time. But dreams never last, and it’s best I remind you all of that.” 

Without warning, Jareth tossed the crystal upward, and it shattered into a blazing light. This was how it was done, using the labyrinth’s powers to cross between worlds. The theater darkened, and Rose was met with a well-recognized feeling of vertigo. 

“Return from whence you came,” said Jareth, the power of his strident voice washing over the group. Rose grew tired, very tired, the effect not dissimilar to that of the peach. And before she could do anything before she could take one last look at the Doctor, the world around her collapsed, her last glimpse stolen by the Goblin King’s malignant blue and brown eyes. 

********

Rose could see it all: the vastness of the labyrinth, the emptiness of the void, the flush of white wings against a black sky. All this, for only a moment, as she left the labyrinth, and returned home. 

Home. 

Home at last. 

And it hurt. It hurt her so deeply. 

The Doctor…ripped from her once again. 

It wasn’t fair. 

No, not at all. 

She could almost hear the sound of TV static. Rose opened her eyes, prepared to be met with the familiar sight of home. However, she found herself in a dark, grassy space. Was she outside? Perhaps in the field near their lift? 

Then, she saw it. A beautiful, blue box, at rest in the yard. Rose turned her head and found the Doctor, mouth gaping at her. “Rose?” he asked his tone a mixture of concern and almost relief. Nearby stood his niece, who looked just as confused. 

“Doctor,” she said, slowly, registering his presence. “You…you’re…” She looked back at the TARDIS. It was different from the last time she saw the machine. It looked new like a fresh coat of paint had been spread over it. Tearing her gaze away from the box, she noticed the house just close by. Rose must be standing in a back garden. There was even a little shed. 

“Mia, do you have any idea-” Rose began asking her daughter. However, a dark, sinking feeling overcame her when she realized the lack of Mia’s presence. Trying not to panic, Rose looked up to the stars, searching the night sky for familiar signs of home. “No zeppelins,” she whispered. None at all. The London skyline of Pete’s World was littered with the machines. Here, they were gone. That’s when it hit her. 

“Home,” said Rose, her breathing faltered. “He said he’d send us home.” 

From whence you came. Only Rose didn’t stop to think twice what that meant, didn't stop to correct him. The Goblin King’s powers were great indeed, for he had easily accomplished what Rose had struggled for years to do: return her to her original universe; the universe where her daughter and husband were absent, but the Doctor remained.

Chapter Text

“There's a starman waiting in the sky

He's told us not to blow it

'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile”

- David Bowie, “Starman”

********

“Would you like some tea?” Donna Noble held out a cup, smiling kindly. 

Rose lifted her head from her hands. Her eyes were still muddled with tears. The Doctor rubbed the side of her shoulder, offering as much comfort as he could. Although, he wasn’t sure how much use it was, considering the source of her sorrow. 

Rose took the cup. “Thank you,” she said, voice hoarse. 

“Don’t mention it,” Donna whispered. “Let me know if you need anything else.” The rest of the house was asleep. Well, Rose Noble, Wilfred Mott, and Shaun Temple were. The Doctor and Donna had stayed up, unwilling to let Rose suffer alone, despite their tiredness. 

They sat in the living room, time passing on slowly. It was early morning. Only a few hours past midnight. That’s all the time that passed while Rose and the Doctor ran the labyrinth. Parallel worlds, what marvelously complicated things they were. Although taken aback by Rose’s sudden arrival, Donna gladly welcomed her into her home. Any family of the Doctor was her family too, she said. Family. How lovely the word sounded when it included Rose. 

Yet, family was the cause of Rose’s grief. Jareth had returned them from whence they came. Such a specific phrase, with dire consequences. Mia was born in Pete’s World, so she was sent there, where the metacrisis Doctor was. Rose had solved the labyrinth and freed the Goblin King, only to lose everything. She was trapped in another world, access to the void sealed off, completely helpless to change it. Only this time, she was on the other side, a dimension away from Bad Wolf Bay. How ironic was that? 

Earlier, Donna had lent Rose some new clothes. Her old ones were dirty and battered. As she changed, the ginger woman pulled the Time Lord aside. Donna pulled the Doctor into a tight hug, a gesture he returned. He relaxed his shoulders, still heavy with the tension of the past thirteen hours, and let himself be at ease. The Doctor had come home. He could rest again. 

Donna pulled back, then roughly shoved the Doctor’s arm. “Ow,” he groaned, clutching at it. So much for the gentle approach , he thought. 

“I swear, if you took my daughter to meet any more bloody Martians,” warned Donna, raising a finger at him. However, her glare did nothing to mask the real concern she felt underneath that mask of anger. He knew her expressions like the back of his hand. 

“No Martians,” reported the Doctor, a bit sore. “Promise.” 

“Well wherever it was you were, I’d say you came back with more than you bargained for,” added Donna, frowning slightly. The expression wasn’t displeasure for Rose Tyler’s presence, more a matter of concern for the Doctor.

“Yeah,” he said, lips tight. “It’s…been a lot.” 

“I’m sure,” Donna said. She reached out to rub the same spot she attacked before. Such a fascinating way of showing love, she had. “If it ever feels like too much, you can talk to me about it, alright?” 

The Doctor nodded, patting her hand gratefully. “Thank you,” he said.

Now, as the Doctor sat with Rose, he knew he was beholden to Donna’s offer of consolation. He would need it, but for the time being, he would try to be strong for Rose. Her steady breathing signaled a break from tears. The Doctor glanced at Donna. She nodded, stepping upstairs to give the pair a moment of privacy. 

“I’m sorry for all this,” said Rose, rubbing her forehead. “You’ve all been so kind, and I’m just…” she trailed off, her eyes glazed over. 

“I understand,” he said, speaking quietly. “Please don’t worry.”

Rose turned her head to look at him. “Thank you,” she said. “For all of it.” 

“All of what?” 

“The labyrinth,” she replied, wiping the bottom of her eyelids. “You helped us get through safely. I know she’s not here, but I can feel she’s home, in here.” Rose pressed a hand against her heart. “Mia is safe because of you.” 

“Because of us,” the Doctor emphasized. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. His hand strayed for a moment, resting against Rose’s cheek. “We did it together.” 

Rose kissed the side of his hand. The silent act ushered a guilty feeling of comfort through the Doctor’s mind. “What can I do now?” Rose asked, hands now resting in her lap. “How do I get back to them?” 

“I don’t know,” replied the Doctor, despondent. His inability to come up with a solution deeply hurt. “I’m afraid for the time being,” he paused, “you’re stuck here.” 

Rose nodded, staring at the floor. The Doctor’s words were no great revelation, but he despised having to speak them. He felt responsible for her fate somehow, even if that weren’t so. He thought back to what the Toymaker had said, about the wish the Doctor and Rose shared. What might have happened if he never uttered it? But Rose would never blame him for something like this. That wasn’t her. Instead, she raised her head and smiled gently at him. “Stuck with you, that ain’t so bad.” 

“Maybe so.” The Doctor smiled back. “And I’ll do everything I can to help. Promise.” 

Rose exhaled, the fatigue of the day catching up to her. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. “Can you stay with me? Until I fall asleep? Won’t be long now,” she mumbled. 

“Always,” he said, the early morning light peeking through the windows. 

At last, the steady lull of sleep captured Rose, leaving the Doctor alone with his thoughts. Here was Rose Tyler, resting in his arms. After all this time, she returned to her original world. Yet, her raining tears fell from a cascade of sorrow. Rose’s life was with her husband and daughter, in Pete’s World. As much as the Doctor yearned for a life with her, and perhaps her with him, she could never be happy here. Not with the knowledge of what she left behind. 

The Doctor and Rose had their happy endings, and he would do anything to bring her back to hers. What good was a life with the one he loved, if she was forever burdened by the pain of what she’d lost? And while he hadn’t the faintest idea how to send Rose back to Pete’s World, there was one, small idea that crossed his mind. 

But first, he’d have to make a call. 

********

During those thirteen exhausting hours in the labyrinth, Rose couldn’t wait to rest. For the past few days, that was all she did. Any cause for celebration was null and void. She didn’t know how she’d fare if not for the Doctor’s comfort. 

The Noble family was terribly kind, allowing her to stay with them while she sorted things out. She hadn’t spoken much through the ordeal, allowing her the opportunity to watch the Doctor in his domestic world. He was a far cry from the version of him she first met, unable to pull him into a simple dinner with Jackie Tyler. 

This Doctor helped Donna and Shaun prepare dinner. This Doctor frequented a cafe to read books. This Doctor sat patiently in the family garden, looking through a telescope with Wilf. He pondered the stars from afar when he could easily fly up to them. The lifestyle was more attuned to the one Rose shared with her husband, her Doctor. She never thought his other half would be content to do the same. 

Rose already knew that the Doctor was a great father. She had firsthand experience raising Mia with the other him. Seeing him help out with Rose Noble wasn’t a surprise, more a welcome reminder of the caring man she fell in love with. The two Roses had spoken a handful of times over the past few days. Such a brilliant young talent, the Noble girl was. She’d shown Rose her shed full of handmade toys, many of which resembled alien creatures. Her new project, a fox in knightly attire, was cause for a rare smile. 

She and the Doctor were trapped in an uncomfortable limbo. Although she knew he empathized with her pain, the Doctor had Rose back in his life. There were moments of silence, in their hushed conversations, where she could see him teetering on the edge of a word. Or rather…three words. How her heart would gladden to hear them, but his hesitancy was, for the first time, appreciated. 

And if she was going to be trapped here for the time being, there was no rush, none at all. He’d find the right moment, and Rose would welcome his words. Because she loved him; all his bravery, all his hope, all his dreams, because they were hers too. They’d been torn apart, had the void shelved between them, and forced to run a madman’s labyrinth. Every trial endured made the moments of solace in one another all the more powerful. 

One day, Rose woke up and was met by the Doctor sitting on the edge of the guest bed. She grinned sleepily at him, the weight of grief distanced by the haziness of sleep. 

“Rest well?” he asked. The question was genuine. The Doctor was always curious, rarely sleeping himself. 

“Well as I could have,” she said, yawning. “Weird dreams, but I’ve had worse.” She grimaced, the music of the labyrinth’s ballroom calling back to her. 

The Doctor smiled lightly, reading her expression accurately. “Well, if you’re up for it, I'd like to make a small trip today. Want to come?” 

“In the TARDIS?” Rose asked, suddenly feeling much more awake. 

He nodded, and that’s all it took for Rose to hop out of bed. 

Her mouth had dropped at the sight of the new interior. The console room was a far cry from the dim, green-lighted place she’d once called home. This space was massive with a clean sci-fi-ish feel. Her heart warmed at the loving presence she felt when stepping onto the machine. The labyrinth’s copy could never recreate that. 

From the glee on the Doctor’s face, as he toyed with the console, she’d hardly expected their destination. However, as soon as she stepped out of the doors, back onto the concrete of the Powell Estate, Rose’s love for him grew even further. 

“Never thought I’d see it again,” she said, glancing around. Rose was amazed at how little it changed.

The Doctor stood next to her, arms crossed. “And? How does it feel?” 

Rose took a deep breath, considering. It was midday, the sun hidden by London fog. In the corner of the council estate yard, a group of teenagers shared a smoke, nervously eying the Doctor and Rose. They laughed quietly, the nervous thrill of bad behavior running through them. They had nothing to worry about. Rose had her fair share of rebellion here. 

There was no Powell Estate in Pete’s World, just a large grocer. Her father’s mansion was a sure upgrade, but it was hard not to miss the only home she’d ever known. She retreated to another childhood memory, gesturing toward the group of teenagers. “Mickey and I used to go to the same spot,” she said, suddenly remembering her old friend’s whereabouts. He returned to this world after the fight with Davros. “Any chance you know where he is? It’d be nice to see him again.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Last time I checked, he’s a freelancer these days. He and his wife, that is. He married Martha, if you remember her.”

Rose grinned. “Yes, I do remember. They got married? Good on him.” She was genuinely happy to hear that. Mickey deserved a happy ending, especially after all the trouble she put him through when they were younger. 

“I should reach out to them,” said the Doctor, slightly bashful. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Still getting used to the whole domestic situation. Not used to catching up with people linearly.” 

“Nah,” said Rose, agreeing. “You just sort of crash into people’s lives, don’t you?” 

“That about sums me up, yes.” 

Rose laughed, the ease of the moment relaxing her. “While I’m not opposed to the trip down memory lane, I have to ask: out of all the places to bring me, why here?” 

“Well,” he said, slowly, “I wanted to make sure you were comfortable. The Nobles are happy to have you at home, but I figured this might be a better meeting place.” 

Rose scrunched her brow. “Meeting place?” She couldn’t quite gather his meaning. Were the Nobles coming? 

The Doctor pulled back his sleeve to glance at his watch. He tapped the glass, trying to goad the clock hands into moving faster. “Any moment now.” 

A few seconds passed, with Rose waiting for the arrival of something, or someone unexpected. Even so, surprise overcame her, because a familiar groan filled the silence. 

Rose glanced at the TARDIS, confused. It stayed in place. Yet, that warping, war cry of a noise that still sent shivers down her spine continued. The whirs of the TARDIS engine filled the Powell Estate. “Doctor, why is she making that-” 

Then, she saw it. Another outline of the TARDIS fading in. The image solidified to a machine identical to the one that Doctor and Rose traveled in. 

Rose’s mouth gaped. “What the-” 

The new TARDIS door opened, and out popped a man. His brightly colored striped shirt contrasted with his long, brown leather trench coat. “Sorry for the timing, I-” he began to say, waving his hands around. However, his dialogue was cut short upon seeing Rose. He snapped his mouth shut, awed. “You’re here. You’re really here.” The man looked at the Doctor, breaking out in a wide smile. 

“And you’re a few minutes late,” noted the Doctor, miming a watch tap. 

The man cringed, cupping his mouth out of embarrassment. “Sorry. Thought I was getting better at that.” As he spoke, he still stole another glance at Rose, fixated on her presence. 

The Doctor chuckled. “I don’t think we could if we tried,” he said, sharing a grin. 

We? 

The Time Lord turned toward Rose, then gestured his hand to the other TARDIS. “I’d say some reacquainting is in order.” 

“Reacquainting?” she repeated. Rose’s mind was running circles around her. If there were two TARDISes, then there would have to be two pilots, and if there were two pilots…then… oh, god. She returned her gaze to the man in the blue box. 

“Hello Rose,” said the man. He looked young, eyes full of life and wonder. Yet, the cadence of his words, and how he uttered Rose’s name, told her all she needed to know. 

Rose looked between the two boxes, the peculiar truth dawning on her. “Doctor?” she asked, any other explanation escaping her. 

“Yes,” he said, his expression soft. “It’s me.” 

“But…but how?” Rose was baffled. The Doctor told her it was nearly impossible to be near other regenerations. Crossing your own timeline was extremely dangerous. He’d have to wipe his memories to avoid problems. 

“I haven’t told you everything about my last regeneration,” said the Doctor beside her, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s due time for that, especially since I thought the help would be good.” 

“Help?” Rose asked, a glimmer of hope emerging. 

“To get you home, Rose,” said the other Doctor, the TARDIS door open behind him. He tilted his head toward the inside. “Come in,” he said, tenderly, “we have a lot to talk about.” 

********

“Bi-generation?” Rose furrowed her brow, confused. “That’s something you can do?” 

“Didn’t know we could until it happened,” said the younger (older?) Doctor. His accent was Scottish, the sound of his voice friendly and warm. She rather liked it. 

“It’s how we defeated the Toymaker last time,” said her Doctor, the one she ran the labyrinth with. She felt strange, putting a possessive title on his name. Nonetheless was compelled to, especially with that face of his. 

The Scottish Doctor sighed and slid off his leather jacket. He tossed it over a railing, then walked toward the console. The interior of this TARDIS was nearly identical to the other, except for the charming addition of a Jukebox. “Never can seem to get rid of the celestial ones.” Pressing a few buttons, the Time Lord began some unnamed process, narrowing his eyes in concentration. He broke his gaze from the console to look back at Rose. “How did you get rid of him?” 

“We had help,” Rose admitted, remembering Jareth’s curt laugh. 

“From who?” He asked, looking slightly baffled. Rightly so, for there were few that could match the Toymaker’s power in this universe. 

“A Goblin King,” said the blue-coated Doctor, chuckling. “Ridiculous as that sounds.” 

The other Doctor widened his eyes. “Goblin King?”

“You,” Rose’s Doctor paused, blindsided, “you know him?” 

“Was he trying to eat a baby on Christmas Eve?” said the other Doctor, as if that were the most normal statement in the world. 

“No…ours was more, glam rock?” Rose chipped in, only a tad confused. 

The other Doctor thought it over, raising his brows. Then, he chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I’d call that a cosmic coincidence.” He didn't elaborate any further. Instead, the other Doctor pulled a lever, and the TARDIS’ round dots lit up with warm lighting. 

“What was that for?” asked Rose, daring to step closer to him. This Doctor was keeping a fair bit of distance between himself and her. She wasn’t sure if that was because of her Doctor’s presence, or some other factor. 

“Well,” the other Doctor gestured toward Rose’s, “this one phoned me, told me about…your problem, then I thought about how I might be able to help fix it. Took some time to calculate, but-” 

“We came up with an idea,” said Rose’s Doctor. “It’s a bit of a gamble, so bear with us.” 

“He and I both have a TARDIS. They’re split copies of the original. One of the few things we can thank the Toymaker’s powers for.” The other Doctor raised a finger and then twirled it to point out the lights. “If we perfectly sync up our departures, we might be able to generate enough power to open a hole in the void.” 

“Just long enough for someone to jump through. It would seal off right after,” Rose’s Doctor continued to explain. 

“Would that work?” For Rose, any dimension-hopping solution made her hesitant. Her years at Torchwood developing the canon were to blame.

Her Doctor nodded, but his smile faltered at the edges, guarding the full extent of his feelings. “Theoretically, yes. But we’d need to be precise.”

“I’ll have my TARDIS go backwards in time,” said the other Doctor, “and he’ll go forward.”

“Creating the strongest echo ships like ours can generate.” 

Rose turned her head between both Doctors, growing optimistic. “And I get to go home.”

“Yes,” said the Doctor, but his complicated expression shortened Rose’s enthusiasm. “Back to your family.”

Before Rose could say more, her Doctor nodded to his counterpart and then started to walk down the TARDIS ramp toward the exit. “Where are you going?” asked Rose. 

Her Doctor turned around. His lips pursed, an expression similar to one Rose recognized. He was about to fib. “Going to run a few, um, diagnostics in my TARDIS. Make sure the girl’s good for a trip. Been a while.” He looked at Rose, his eyes soft.

Then, she flitted her gaze to the Doctor unfamiliar to her. His hands rested on the edge of the console. He looked at his other self with a sense of gratitude. “Good luck,” he said.

The blue-coated Doctor gave a thumbs up, then swiftly left. Upon his exit, Rose and the other Doctor stood in silence, the TARDIS humming. Rose studied this new version of the man she’d always love, no matter the form he took. “So, if he,” she said, in reference to the Doctor who just left, “lives with the Nobles, what have you been doing?” 

The Doctor beamed, delighted she would ask. “Been traveling, seeing the stars and whatnot.” He tapped the edge of the console. Rose noticed the line of rings across his fingers, Gallifreyan symbols carved into the metal. 

“On your own?” asked Rose, hoping that wasn’t so. 

He shook his head. “Nah. I had a great friend named Ruby Sunday. She was fantastic.” 

They both smiled at his choice of words. “Where is she now?” Rose wondered. The TARDIS showed no signs of other inhabitants.

The Doctor hesitated to answer, a look of regret crossing his face. “With her family. She’s fine. Happy. But,” he paused, “I thought it best if we part ways for some time. It’s a long story.”

“I’m not sure short ones exist with you,” she said, smiling warmly. 

“Nah, right you are on that.” They stared at each other again, and before Rose could count the seconds, they were embracing. The Doctor wrapped his arms tight around Rose, which she returned lovingly. 

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he said, emitting a heavy sigh. The weight of it surprised her, considering how light and bubbly his personality had been so far. Although she just met him, Rose could tell this Doctor felt deeply, more in tune with his emotions than other regenerations she’d known. 

“But I’m here,” she said, “and I’m happy I could meet this new you.” Even if for a short while. 

They pulled back from the hug, meeting each other’s faces with teary smiles. Then, without a moment’s consideration, the Doctor pressed a kiss against Rose’s forehead. He cupped her neck affectionately. “There’s something I want to tell you,” he said, “quite badly. But…” His gaze went downtrodden for a moment, some debate running through his mind. 

Rose held her breath. “But?” 

“I think he ought to,” said the Doctor, eyes flicking over to the TARDIS doors, where the blue-coated Doctor went. “The first time you hear those words…I think they should come from him.” The Doctor smiled; a tinge of sadness in his expression. 

Rose was moved that Doctor’s selflessness extended even to himself. Because she could tell this Doctor wanted to tell her. Yet, he held himself back. If this was what he wished, then she couldn’t deny him it. So, as a consolation, Rose hugged him again, burying her face in his shoulder. 

They stood like that for some time, stretching the moment as long as they could. It was the Doctor who finally let it end, turning the page from this chapter of their story. Pulling away, he reached up and squeezed Rose’s shoulder. “I’d tell you to have an amazing life, but I think you’ve already got that.”

The image of her husband and daughter flashed through her mind. She’d go back to them, to her life, and the center of her heart. “Yeah, I do.”

“Off you go then,” he said, tilting his head toward the TARDIS doors. “When it’s time to send you home, I’ll be ready.” 

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, grasping the hand he pressed against her shoulder. Rose squeezed it tight. 

She felt an odd tinge of nostalgia for a moment that had yet to pass. Years from now, she’d know she’d look back on this final conversation with the Doctor; the one who changed the trajectory of her entire life. The lights of the TARDIS twinkled, casting their glow on his face. She studied his eyes, which shone brighter than any version of him she’d ever known. This Time Lord was full of hope, one that had taken time to heal, and more importantly, allowed himself to feel. So even if she never saw him again, Rose knew in her heart that he would be well. 

The Doctor squeezed her hand back. “Rose Tyler,” he said, smiling gently, “enjoy the rest of your story.” 

And she would, every blazing moment of it. 

********

“Everything in order?” asked Rose’s Doctor. He’d stepped away from the other Doctor’s TARDIS out of respect. He understood what his counterpart might be feeling. Here was Rose Tyler, back in their universe, but only for a short while. Each moment was a gift, a treasure to be guarded in the trove of their long memory, but that didn’t make the reality any less pertinent. The other him deserved a moment alone with the woman they loved. 

“He’s ready,” she said. Rose closed the TARDIS doors behind her, then rested her back on them. 

The Doctor had taken off his blue overcoat, feeling weighed down by the fabric. He pulled out his screwdriver from some odd place within his waistcoat, lifting a panel to read it. “All good on my end,” he said, snapping the sonic lid shut. “We’ll get you home in no time.” 

“So,” Rose sighed, pulling at a stand of her hair, “this is it. I can go back.” 

“Believe so,” said the Doctor, more strained than he’d hoped it would sound.  “All you need to do is stand between both TARDISes. I’ll signal to the other me, and we’ll start traveling in opposite directions in time. That will result in the energy pull, which you’ll be right in the middle of. If all goes well, it’ll send you back to Pete’s Word in a matter of seconds.” 

Rose left her place against the TARDIS doors, walking up the ramp toward the console. “Do I have time to say goodbye to the Nobles?” It warmed his hearts that she’d ask after them. Unfortunately, there was only a small window to help Rose cross the void. 

“Afraid not,” the Doctor said, disheartened by the swiftness of her departure. “We’ve got to act quickly. There’s a lot of risk in this, but I’m optimistic.” 

They stood across from each other now. Rose tugged at the ends of her fingers, then took a deep breath. She looked up at him, capturing his entire focus. “You know,” she said, “sometimes, I catch myself listening for it. Expecting a blue box to just pop up around the corner.” 

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, an attempt to distract from a tear threatening to break loose. “Sometimes I see a flash of blond hair, or hear a laugh that sounds like yours,” he began, “and I let myself dream that you’re still here.”

“It’s hard not to want it all,” said Rose, she reached over and grabbed the Doctor’s hand, “to wish things played out perfectly.” The Doctor held her grip, already missing the spark that ignited whenever their palms met.  

To wish. The shared action had pulled the Doctor and Rose across time and space. To wish was an act of power, not just in the labyrinth’s world, but the Doctor’s own. He’d spent so much time yearning for what he didn’t have, mourning the mistakes he’d made. Yet, he allowed those mistakes to define how he viewed himself in the present, and how he acted. A wish was a call for the universe to change, to thrust some new destiny upon him. No more. It was time the Doctor fully dedicated himself to what was possible, what was in his control. 

He’d start now, in this moment with Rose, by saying three simple words. 

“I love you,” the Doctor said, the phrase finding its way to her at last. It was no secret to be locked away, like how he treated it for all the other times he had the chance to say it. 

Rose’s face softened, the vulnerability of his statement overcoming her. From this expression alone, the Doctor was never more grateful for the actualization of his once-buried dream. “I know,” she said, “I’ve always known. But,” Rose cut off, a happy sob escaping her, “thank you. Thank you for telling me.” Tears rolled down her face, and soon, the Doctor found a few of his breaking free. 

The Doctor wrapped his arms around Rose, bringing her in close. He kissed the top of her head, exhaling deeply. He’d gladly run the labyrinth a thousand times over if it meant more time with her. But it was not to be. “I don’t want you to go,” he spoke honestly, whispering it into her hair. It would be a lie to say otherwise. “But we’ll be just fine, you and I.” 

And they would, he was so sure of that now. He had the Nobles, Rose had her husband and daughter. They were happier, more than they’d ever been. Returning to those lives required a sacrifice, and that was being enacted now, in their farewells. 

“I’m happy you’ve found your family, Doctor,” said Rose, her muffled cries echoing against his form. “You deserve that more than anyone I’ve ever known.” She raised her head to meet his gaze once more. 

“Rose Tyler,” he said, cupping her cheek, “you’re the best dream I could have hoped for.” 

She leaned forward and pressed a small, chaste kiss against his lips. This was her final act of love, and for the brief moment it lasted, the Doctor found comfort. After, he leaned his forehead against hers, his hearts pounding fast. “Goodbye, Doctor,” she said, so softly he could barely hear it. 

Rose met his gaze and gifted him another one of her smiles. And then, before he or she could think better of it, she exited the embrace, walked down the ramp, and stepped outside the TARDIS doors, back into the Powell Estate. 

“Goodbye, Rose,” said the Doctor, the silence of the TARDIS never more profound. 

The Doctor instantly felt Rose’s absence, but he wouldn’t lament on it. Now was the time to act. He turned to the TARDIS interface and pulled up a screen. On it, he could see the image of Rose, waiting between the two machines, just as he instructed. Sending a message to the other Doctor, he began the process of booting up the TARDIS. The Doctor pulled levers, pushed buttons, and swiped on screens. A perfect sync. 

All the while, he stared at Rose on the screen, and with deep courage, pressed the penultimate control. The TARDIS whirred, the center console moving up and down, springing to life. He messaged the other him, beginning a matched countdown. 

Three. 

Two.

One. 

At the final cue, the Doctor pulled the last lever, sending the TARDIS forward through time. On the monitor, he could see a blue energy emitting out between both machines, Rose’s form flickering amidst it. 

As the TARDIS lurched through the time vortex, Rose’s image blinked in and out of existence. And with one final golden glow, she was gone. 

********

It all happened so quickly. One moment, Rose was standing in Powell Estate, and in the next, she was in her living room. She appeared before the Doctor and Mia, who were huddled closely together on the couch. Rose had never held her family tighter, the three coming together for a warm, grateful embrace. 

In this world, Mia and Rose had only disappeared for a few hours. Mia had come back first, sent to her birth universe by Jareth. For Rose, it had been more complicated, as she told her husband. She had explained, with teary eyes and a heavy heart, the wonders and horrors of the labyrinth, and the Toymaker’s tricks. 

Part of her was fearful of his reaction. She made no disguise of what happened during those thirteen hours, or the days after it. She had reunited with the Doctor she’d first fallen in love with, a man who both was and wasn’t her husband. 

And yet, as she knew in her heart would happen, her husband smiled and kissed her on the cheek. 

“I understand, Rose,” he said, his voice kind and true. “Were I in his place, I would have felt and done the same. He helped send you back home to us. For that alone, I am indebted to my other half.” 

He was downstairs with Mia now, the two preparing a late breakfast. Their daughter had rarely offered to help before, but ever since her return, now eagerly did so. It gave Rose hope, that for everything Mia went through in the labyrinth, she had come out all the stronger for it. 

In her bedroom, Rose sat before a mirror, staring hard at her own reflection. Her time in the labyrinth hadn’t changed her. No, it only made her more sure of herself. She felt lighter, more true in her life and her love. And for some unknown reason, her longing for the other Doctor had transformed into something else; something yet unnamed. 

He’d stay with her, always. Little did she know just how true that feeling would be. 

Something flickered in the corner of her mirror, startling her. Rose blinked, then rubbed her eyes, but nothing was there. Feeling unsatisfied, she sat up from the bed and approached her reflection, looking carefully. She raised her hand and touched the glass. Then, as she raised her vision, Rose experienced the shock of her life. 

She was met with the Doctor’s wide-eyed gaze, his expression matching her own. “Rose?” he said, breathless. 

From the moment she saw him, Rose knew this wasn’t her husband. It was the other Doctor, the one she’d just left, and yet, he was in her mirror, talking to her. “Where…where are you?” she asked, her mind reeling. Had he crossed to her world? But this Doctor remained in the mirror, bound to it. 

“My room in the Noble house,” he said, still confounded, “and you?” 

“My home,” she said, gathering her thoughts with a deep breath. “Can you see it?”

He shook his head. “Just you. I…can see you.” The Doctor looked dumbfounded, and at the same time, utterly joyful at this discovery. 

“How-how is this possible?” she asked, searching her mind for answers.

Rose could see the Doctor’s instinct for a rushed explanation kick in. Yet, he said nothing, breaking out into a smile instead. He laughed, then shook his head as he palmed a hand through his stubble, thinking. “There’s only one word that comes to mind.” 

She grazed the edge of the mirror. “Magic?” 

The Doctor sighed, chuckling again. “Yeah, I would say so. And you know what Rose?” he asked.

“What?” Rose found herself smiling too. 

“I don’t mind that,” he said, appearing entirely at ease. “Not at all.” There was no panic, no worry that their connection would sever the strength of the void, only tranquility. 

That persistent ache in Rose’s chest had transformed into something new. From the way he carried himself, she knew that the Doctor felt the same. Because finally, after all their trials and tribulations, they had found their reward. 

********

Far away in his palace, a king looked through his crystal orb and smiled. Two lovers, torn apart, thrown into the labyrinth, and forced to recompense with their desires. It made for quite the story, one that compelled even the great Goblin King. Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, Rose and the Doctor had saved Jareth’s kingdom. For that, they had earned this trophy. 

But Jareth let the orb disappear from his grasp, replaced by a new one that gave vision to a different world. He couldn’t indulge too much in the legends of others, not when he had to oversee his own. The Goblin King had heard a new call. A young girl had wished her baby brother away; a girl that he had been watching closely for quite some time. 

The labyrinth lay in wait for its next runner. A brave knight and his dog steed stood guard on a bog’s bridge, a gentle giant plucked newly sprouted peaches off trees, and a decidedly less grumpy goblin tended to his plants, wondering how his two friends fared across the void. 

It was the dawn of a new adventure, and for all that was about to unfold, Jareth was prepared to turn his world upside down. 

********

There were many times Donna or Rose Noble asked how the mirror trick worked. The Doctor could never explain. There was no spell, nor wish to be made for it to work. He wasn’t like the Goblin King, who could bend the world to his will, and cross the parallel lines that divided dimensions. The Doctor was just a Time Lord, who had stumbled upon a bit of magic, and let it into his life. 

If the Doctor or Rose ever had want or need to speak to the other, they simply had to look into a mirror and call. The other would sense it, and find their way to see through to the parallel world. When they did, they’d speak for hours on end, filling in each other with the latest news and adventures the other had found. There were limitations to this, of course. Rose explained that in the film, creatures of the labyrinth could cross over into the main character’s world. Unfortunately, the ability was not lent to the Doctor and Rose. Just like on Bad Wolf Bay, there was no touch, only the sound and image of one another. But they didn’t care, because seeing one another was a gift enough. 

No one else could see what the Doctor or Rose could. The mirror betrayed no image of other worlds to Donna, Wilfred, Shaun, or Rose's husband. Not even Rose Noble or Mia Tyler, who had been thrown into the labyrinth themselves. They carried on, more than happy to leave the trials of the maze behind them. 

The Doctor asked after Mia often, knowing how important she was to Rose’s life. And as the years went by, the Time Lord heard tales of her growing up, and maturing into that brave, determined woman she was always destined to be. He’d share the same about his niece, and how she helped defend the earth at U.N.I.T. 

He heard tell of the other him, the one married to Rose. Neither felt jealousy, anger, or hatred for their other self. They were both the Doctor, and the Doctor would always understand. There was nothing simple about the history of the Time Lord, but had found its rightful path at last. 

It wasn’t perfect, this strange way of seeing into each other’s lives. They never knew how long it would last; if the magic would stretch across their lifetimes. But that was the future, a future they wouldn’t let ruin their present. They had lives of their own, ones they happily danced through. But every now and again, for no reason at all, she needed him, and he needed her. 

Once upon a time, the Doctor would have thought himself weak for feeling so. But that concern had long passed. For what use was guilt for dreaming, when the dreams led back to the one he loved?

Chapter Text

“I had so many dreams I had so many breakthroughs 

But you, my love, were kind 

But love has left you dreamless 

The door to dreams was closed 

Your park was real and dreamless 

Perhaps you're smiling now 

Smiling through this darkness 

But all I have to give 

Is guilt for dreaming”

- David Bowie, “Time”

********

“It’s late.” 

“I know,” said Mia, closing her book. She let it rest in her lap, fingers wrapped around the edges, just in case her father would change his mind. He wouldn’t, but the Doctor’s daughter had inherited his stubbornness. 

“I’d prefer if you didn’t stay up past midnight,” the Doctor closed the door behind him, his bedroom slippers flopping as he entered the room, “but I must say, I’m quite happy to find you with a book, instead of your phone.” 

Mia rolled her eyes, but the Doctor could tell she fought back a smile. “Sorry. Just got caught up in it.” 

The Doctor sat on the edge of her bed. “May I?” His daughter handed the book over, allowing him to examine the cover. Gold letters amidst a soft teal cover revealed the story’s name. “Goblin Market?” He recognized the author, Christina Rossetti, but she wasn’t one he’d assume Mia would be a fan of. “Since when do you read 19th-century poetry? I’m impressed.” 

Mia’s expression was bashful, as if she’d be caught doing something bad. “Found it at a charity shop with Karin. She thought it was weird I wanted it, but…well, you know.” She rubbed the back of her neck, eyes downtrodden. 

The Doctor smiled softly, understanding his daughter’s hesitancy. Mia always got like this when the labyrinth was brought up. “Does it match what you remember?” he asked gently, gesturing to the book. 

Mia shook her head. “No, but Mum told me about something like it. Didn’t sound much fun though,” she said, grimacing.

He nodded, remembering a similar story himself. “You both went through a lot,” he said, “and I know it’s hard, but you can talk about it with me.”

His daughter had a far-off look in her eye, pondering. She released the thought with a hurried breath. “Doesn’t it bother you though?” Mia raised her gaze, frowning slightly. 

“What do you mean?” The Doctor was caught off guard. 

“Hearing about all of it. Mum. The…other you,” she said, addressing the unsaid. Mia’s hands tensed around the book. “That and the fact that he’s still around, sort of. Even if only Mum can see him.” 

Ah. The Doctor sighed, sensing this would be a deeper late-night conversation than he’d anticipated. It had been half a year since Rose and Mia returned from the labyrinth, half a year since his other self had come back into his wife’s life. 

For a time, Rose carried a sense of shame. Guilt, perhaps, was a more accurate word. She had told him everything that happened. All of the fury, sorrow, and love that had been shared between her and the other Doctor, and would continue to be shared. Her revelations were honest, open, and full of trust. Rose knew he’d understand; that he, of all people, would balance support and judgment. 

It would be a lie to say the Doctor didn’t have his concerns about the magic Rose brought back. He did, after all, have the mind of a Time Lord, and Time Lords had never taken kindly to the unknown. Yet, he found himself accepting with ease. His existence as the metacrisis wasn’t far off from a form of magic itself. 

“It has bothered me,” he admitted to Mia, brows furrowed in concentration, “but not in the way you may think.” 

“How so?” She perked up, curious. 

“I think this is your roundabout way of asking if I’m jealous,” he reasoned, seeing right through her guise, “and the answer to that is no. I’m not jealous of the other me. Hard to be, when he is me.” 

She bit her lip, a perplexed look on her face. “But…he’s not, though,” Mia said softly. She pulled up her legs and rested her chin atop her knees. “When I met him, well, he looked like you, spoke like you…but there was something in his eyes.” 

Always the eyes, the Doctor thought silently. No matter how young he looked, his eyes were a dead giveaway to the burdens of time. “What did you see?” 

Mia exhaled. “Not sure I can even describe it. Not smart enough to at least.” 

“Hey,” he said, nudging Mia’s knees, “I think you’re brilliant.” 

Mia rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re my dad. You have to say that.” 

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” he said. The Doctor picked up Mia’s book and wiggled it. “You’re reading 19th-century poetry, remember?” 

She snatched the book out of his hands, chuckling. “And you give me too much credit.” 

“Want me to wake your Mum up? Then it’ll be two against one, and you’ll have to believe me,” he grinned. 

“You’re changing the subject,” she said, shaking her head. 

“Right,” he said, straightening up, “sorry. What was it about the other me?” 

“He just…” Mia began, trailing off as she sorted through her thoughts. “He was more emotional than I’d expected. Mum has always said that you, and I guess him, can be closed off.” 

A tightness formed in the Doctor’s chest. His lack of openness had been cause for more than a few mistakes, especially when it came to Rose. He’d spent all his time in Pete’s World making up for it, giving his love freely to the ones he cared for. Maybe, at last, his counterpart had managed to do the same. 

His heart warmed when he learned how his other self lived with the Nobles. Two Doctors, across universes, being domestic. Who would have thought? “And why would emotions be a bad thing?” he asked his daughter, curious about the cause of her worry. 

Mia paused, taking a moment. “Mum’s your wife,” she said, “and she loves you. You’re her husband, and you love her. He…he feels the same. He’s older than you, been through more than you, but he still loves her, and she still loves him. I don’t know what I’d think if I were you. Seems… uncomfortable.” Mia raised her head, studying her dad’s reaction to her words. 

“I see,” he said, rubbing the underside of his chin. “You’re confused about why I’m not hurt by it.” 

“Yeah. Suppose so,” she said, fiddling with her fingers. 

It was a confusing dynamic to be sure. Yet, the Doctor didn’t feel as if he were sharing his wife with someone else. That would suggest a possession, a hold over Rose and what she felt or did. But the Doctor loved all of her, and she loved all of him. And as things tended to go in the complicated lives of Time Lords, all of him applied to his other forms. He could never deny a part of himself from being with her. 

But out of every just reason the Doctor searched his mind for, one stood out amongst the rest: joy, Rose’s joy. He could see how at peace his wife felt now, finding a connection with the world she once lost. That connection didn’t sever the new ones she’d built in Pete’s World. She could reminisce without threatening the present. The Doctor knew that feeling all too well. He’d do anything to see a Gallifreyan sunrise again, to gaze upon its orange splendor one last time. However, he could wish that, dream it, but still live in the now. Rose’s connection with her original universe was a gift, something to be cherished, not abandoned. 

“Your mother and I have each other now, but it wasn’t always like this. For a time, I thought our story was doomed to end in tragedy. To be apart from her….hurts, far more than any bit of jealousy might,” he said, explaining it best he could to Mia. Her expression softened as she listened. “We found each other, in the end. Built a life. Had you.” He nudged her knee. “So if the other me can see your mother again, can speak to her, then I’d say that’s worth celebrating.” 

“I can’t say I fully get it now,” Mia confessed, “but I’m sure I will, one day.” She smiled at him, grateful for his willingness to talk.

“I’m sure you will, love,” he said, patting her hand. “Now, it’s lights out.” The Doctor pointed a finger at her light switch. 

“Ok, ok,” she said, putting her book on the nightstand. The Doctor stood up from the bed and began his exit. 

“Remember, Gran, Gramps, and your uncle are coming over for breakfast,” he said, hand on the edge of the door. “So be up before nine.” 

“Uncle will never not sound weird.” Mia scoffed. “Tony’s only a few years older than me.” 

“But still your uncle,” he reminded, smirking. “Goodnight, Mia.” 

“Night Dad,” she said, getting under her sheets. “Love you.” 

“I love you too.” With that, the Doctor clicked Mia’s light switch. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered into the darkness, closing the door. 

********

The Doctor peeked inside his bedroom. Sound asleep, Rose was turned away from him, her hair peeking out from under the covers. The Doctor quietly entered, careful not to make any noise. He stepped over to his side of the bed, lifted the duvet, and slipped under. Rolling over, he pressed a kiss against Rose’s shoulder, causing her to stir. 

“Hello,” she mumbled, voice drowsy with sleep. 

“Sorry,” the Doctor cringed, “did I wake you up?” 

“Wasn’t really asleep,” she said, yawning. Rose turned over to be face-to-face with him. “All good with Mia?” 

He nodded. “Think so. She was reading before I told her to go to sleep.”

“Reading?” Rose raised a brow.

“Yes,” he said, grasping her hand under the sheets. “I’ll tell you in the morning, but for now,” the Doctor pressed a kiss against her forehead, “let's sleep.” 

“Works for me.” She said as the Doctor brushed a hair out of her face. “I was just starting to dream.” 

As they fell into the lull of sleep, wrapped in each other's arms, they were uncertain about what awaited them. However, the two could rest assured that no matter the dream or nightmare, they’d find each other again in the waking world.