Crossroads - Choices and Chances (10/11)
Title: Choices and Chances
Warnings: R. Oh, and it’s baby!fic.
Spoilers: For the sake of this story, S4 never happens.
Beta: runriggers
Part of the Crossroads series
A now AU and non-S4 compliant story. Ah well.
Part One: Reflections
Part Two: One Day
Part Three: Choices and Chances, Chapters One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine
Chapter Ten: Trust in Time..... Rose recovers the only way she knows how - she goes home.
Chapter Ten: Trust in Time
Hours later, Rose still slept. The Doctor and Martha stood by in the medical bay as the nanogenes settled into her body, performing an intricate dance as they pulsated and circled around her. To Martha, it seemed like years before they’d finally lifted away; the Doctor was all too aware that it had taken a full six minutes and 23 seconds before the nanogenes completed their work.
Her blood pressure was normal. Her heart rate was stabilized. Her temperature was a little high, but Martha had assured him that this was normal in pregnant humans. This ought to have given him some comfort at least, but it didn’t, because the storm had ended ten hours before, and Rose still slept.
She was in their bedroom now. There was no reason to keep her in the medical bay, and Martha had pronounced her healthy, as far as could be discerned. They had removed Rose’s sodden dress and settled her into the bed, and Martha had left the Doctor sitting in a chair to take first watch, intending to dispose of the ruined garment before going to sleep herself.
The Doctor watched Rose sleep, counting every steady breath. He rested his head on clenched fists, or buried his face in open palms, thinking the movement sufficed for exercise. She would sigh in her sleep, but she never spoke or moved or made any sort of indication that she might be near wakefulness. The Doctor did not dare take his eyes off of her.
It was a far cry from the last time he’d stood watch over Rose for such a stretch, when he’d pulled her from the crossroads, caked in blue custard. At the time, he’d been giddy with success, emotions running high, and flush with a fever he now knew was caused by the blue custard already hard at work, altering his physiology. He’d had no doubt that Rose would wake, so he’d talked to her, read to her, even tore himself away from her to make himself tea or work on the TARDIS, pausing every so often to brush her hair away from her face, or just look at her, grinning.
He could not smile now, nor bear to touch her. He could not look away, for fear he would miss a single breath. He did not dare speak, for fear of the words he might say.
He only tried to touch her thoughts once, just after the nanogenes in the medical bay. He reached out to her then, desperate to know if she was well, but every time the edges of his thoughts came near the silvery-turquoise glow that was her, she receded from him, backing away in terror. He didn’t think it was fear of him, not necessarily. Just fear of anyone invading her sense of self. Now he waited, watching, unable to touch her in any way that might bring comfort, and if ever a Time Lord prayed, he did then.
He watched her for hours, until the door opened again, and Martha, refreshed and rested, slipped inside. He could hear her footsteps as Martha approached the bed and felt for Rose’s pulse, habit taking precedence before any faith in Rose’s watch.
“Hello, Rose,” she said softly, setting Rose’s arm back down. Martha turned to the Doctor, the worry evident in her eyes. “Doctor, I’m here. You should rest.”
“Don’t need it,” said the Doctor. The exhaustion and hard edges in his voice surprised him, but Martha didn’t even blink.
“You’ve been sitting for ten hours now, and I’ve slept and eaten. I also happen to know that Rose was reading the baby book I’d brought her, so I have every intention of reading it to her. Unless you want to hear about the gruesome details of human pregnancy, Doctor, I suggest you go elsewhere.”
“I want to be here when she wakes.”
Martha sighed. “She won’t wake for a while, Doctor. The nanogenes worked on her for a long time, and they might have healed her and the baby, but she’ll still have a lot of recovery to do. The nanogenes did what they could - but the rest is up to her.”
“They should have healed her completely,” said the Doctor.
“Maybe they’re past their expiration date,” snapped Martha. “Look, I don’t care if you sleep or eat or run laps. But Doctor, please - at least get out of that chair.”
The Doctor didn’t move.
“You could program the TARDIS to go home, you know.”
He glanced at Martha then. “She’s three weeks further along. We’re too close to the baby’s danger zone.”
“I don’t know,” said Martha slowly. “I’ve been thinking - when you talked to Rose, after the San Salvador exploded - she was frantic, yeah? And we followed that phone call to here, three weeks later. Which means that’s where Rose already was. I think the Demuti skipped her three weeks ahead. I don’t think she’s more than three days further along than when we last saw her.”
The Doctor scrutinized Rose’s face for a moment before looking up at Martha’s sharply. “If you’re wrong-"
“Then there’s still about a week leeway,” said Martha coolly. “The books said it was dangerous, yeah, but not fatal. Not until much later. You make it quick and smooth and do it absolutely right - and I think she and the baby will be fine.”
The Doctor leaned forward to the bed, hovering over Rose. Her breathing was still even - she was just slightly warm to his touch - she could have been sleeping peacefully for all he knew. Somewhere in her, their baby still grew, every second building another block to being a full-grown child. His thoughts, now hesitant, reached toward her again, to the silver-turquoise that still shimmered just as strongly, just as frightened as before.
“Rose,” he whispered, just once, and he thought he saw her eyelids flicker, just a little. He smiled; it was the first real movement he’d seen since watching her collapse on the ship. “I’ll be right back.”
He stood and looked at Martha for a moment. “If you’re right-"
“Name the baby after me,” said Martha. He left the room in long strides, and five minutes later, half a page into chapter four, Martha heard the familiar whoosh whoosh. She took a minute to grin, and grasped Rose’s hand in hers.
“Bloody stubborn Time Lord,” she whispered. “Wake up soon, yeah? Because you are not allowed to sleep through every chapter of this book.”
Martha managed to keep reading through the Time Vortex, through re-entry, through landing. She read as the Doctor re-entered the room, and didn’t even hesitate when he crawled into the bed beside Rose, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to him. She read until her voice began to ache, and her eyelids grew heavy. She read as the TARDIS began to dim the lights, and she was still reading the last few words as the book slipped from her hands to her lap, and her head fell forward, fast asleep.
*
Rose walked.
The path stretched for miles ahead of her and miles behind, the bright blue gravel crunching beneath her feet as she kept up a steady pace. Rose wasn’t sure what lay on either side of the path; the horizon stretched to a beige blank nothing, and besides, Rose kept her focus squarely ahead of her, not quite seeing. The wind whistled but did not touch her. She could smell dust in the air but her skin felt clean. She could hear voices, dimly, but saw no one.
…we have taken for a greater cause…
…I doubt that…
Rose frowned, almost recognizing the voice. It made her stomach flutter. Still, she walked.
...she is not so innocent…she will leave you in the end…
…I’m sure she will…
Rose’s breath caught. She knew the second voice, she was certain of it. Just hearing it made something twist inside. Her chest pounded and her blood quickened, and Rose picked up her pace. The voices seemed to come from just ahead of her - perhaps when she reached them, she would know whose they were.
The path was narrowing, and Rose was careful to stay firmly on it. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she stepped off, but it couldn’t have been a good idea, not when the gravel made that lovely crunching sound, not when the voices were coaxing her forward.
She wondered why, if the second voice was so familiar to her, so instantly comforting, it was also so certain she would leave in the end. She would be sure to ask it, when she found it. If she found it - Rose was oddly tired. She thought she might have walked the path for years, but she couldn’t really remember them.
Then the path split.
Rose stood, her muscles aching with the sudden halt in movement. Her entire body was anxious to continue, but she stood, looking from one path to the other, waiting, uncertain. She had to remain on a path - she knew this, there was no other choice. But which path? Where was that voice she was following? The paths looked exactly the same to her, stretching into nothingness on ahead, blue and lonely.
Rose waited, hoping to hear the voice again.
She could hear the wind whistle, but the air was still. Every moment she did not move, her body ached, the muscles tensing and releasing with the strain of remaining in one place. Rose could not last much longer, standing there - something in her would break. She could feel it happening already, her entire body cracking and falling to pieces from indecision, but she kept herself still, hoping for some sort of indication which path to follow.
…Rose…
A different voice - softer, higher, filled with longing and resigned with acceptance. Rose turned down the left path and followed it.
*
Jackie Tyler woke early, convinced she’d heard someone calling her name.
It wasn’t Pete, who remained asleep beside her. It wasn’t the twins, who hadn’t called out for her in years. Jackie sat straight up in bed for half a minute before deciding it was her imagination, and settled back onto her pillow.
“Mum...”
She was up like a shot now, shoving the blankets aside and reaching for her robe. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, and there was sure to be dew on the grass, but Jackie had no doubt that she was meant to follow the voice. Into the garden, past the grounds, across England if necessary, but Jackie was following it.
“Jacks?”
“Hush, Pete, I’ll be only a minute,” said Jackie automatically. “Go back to sleep.”
“Is it Rose?” he mumbled. “Tell her hello.”
Jackie paused at the door, staring at her husband for half a moment. “I will,” she managed to say, before realizing he was already asleep, and she shut the door behind her.
There was dew on the grass, but Jackie had forgotten her slippers. She didn’t care. The damp soaked the bottom of her pajama pants as she walked through the grass to the far end of the garden. She hadn’t heard anything since first waking, but it didn’t seem to matter. Without knowing how, Jackie had a very good idea where she was meant to go, and she wrapped her robe around her tighter as she approached the small pond, noting that someone was sitting on the bench overlooking it. There was an ache in the pit of her stomach, and Jackie found it hard to breathe. She didn’t dare look at the face of the person; she simply approached the bench and sat down.
“I’m not sure how I got here,” said Rose. “I - I’m not sure I’m even here.”
“What do you remember?” asked Jackie, surprised how calm she sounded. She still couldn’t look at her daughter.
“I’m not sure - I think I was on a ship. A real ship, on water. Surrounded by pirates. It sounds like some stupid Saturday adventure film. And now I’m sitting in Pete’s garden. I think. I don’t remember a pond.”
“School project of Donald’s - he wanted to see if goldfish could survive outdoors.”
“Can they?”
“Not in January, no.”
“Mum-"
Jackie turned to Rose, unable to keep her eyes away any longer. Her daughter was just the same as she remembered her - hair a bit of a mess, and perhaps her eyes were red from crying, but she was still young and lovely. Jackie watched as Rose glanced to her as well, and she saw the momentary shock in Rose’s young eyes.
“Hair’s gone a bit greyer,” said Jackie. “But I’ve lost half a stone, what do you think?”
“You look wonderful,” said Rose. “Pictures don’t do you justice.”
“Go on with you.” Jackie was pleased anyway, and reached for Rose’s hand. “Is it-"
“I don’t know,” said Rose, just as curious, and they watched as their hands moved closer together, but they both stopped before contact was made. “I think - I think I might be dying, Mum.”
Jackie’s heart stopped. She looked up to her daughter’s face, but Rose was no longer looking back at her. The pain was written in the way Rose wrapped her hands around the edge of the bench, her back concave. Jackie could not think of a word to say.
“The sailors - they wanted something from me. I think they killed me to get it. I think that’s why I’m able to come here. Unless - am I dreaming?”
“No,” said Jackie. “You’re really here.”
“There so much I didn’t tell you, Mum. I didn’t want to tell you before, and I won’t get a chance to tell you again. I’m pregnant.”
Jackie hadn’t realized her heart had begun beating again, and now it leapt from her chest to her throat. There was nothing - nothing - more she wanted in the world at that moment than to wrap her arms around Rose. To touch her hair and kiss her on the cheek and tell her it would all be all right. Jackie hadn’t thought she would hear such good news immediately after hearing of her daughter’s imminent death, but found the idea of a baby overwhelmed everything else - which was how it should be. The strain of keeping away from her daughter filled her voice so completely that Jackie wasn’t sure how happy she sounded, and if she couldn’t touch Rose, she didn’t want there to be any mistake. “Oh, Rose!” she whispered. “My baby-"
Rose glanced up shyly. “I wanted so badly to be able to tell you. I don’t think the Doctor understood how unfair it was that I couldn’t.”
“A baby. Oh, sweetheart - how far along are you?” The excitement was there - Jackie could hear it. And when she saw Rose begin to smile, resting a hand on her stomach, it gave her hope that perhaps Rose felt it too..
“A month, maybe? But we think the baby won’t be born for over a year - alien and all that. Martha is going to keep a close eye.”
“Good, I’m glad. About Martha, that is - a year of pregnancy for you won’t be any fun at all. You’ll send me pictures the whole way, won’t you? And I want to know the moment the baby’s born.” Jackie laughed. “Think, I’ll be a grandmother. At least I have four years to get used to the idea.”
Rose stilled, her eyes opening in shock. Jackie clenched her hands to keep them from resting them on her daughter’s arm. “Mum?”
“That’s about how the times move, isn’t it?” continued Jackie. “A year for you, four or five for me? We won’t tell Pete - men are always impossible, he’ll be asking on a weekly basis if the baby’s born yet. The man can’t tell time even with twenty watches strapped to his wrist.”
“How did you know?” demanded Rose. “I didn’t ever want to tell you.”
“Mickey, of course,” said Jackie. “We realized it when he was so confused a few years ago, thinking you’d been here longer. Of course, we should have thought of it before, what with him living here for three years before we showed up. How long have you been with the Doctor now, Rose?”
“Two years.”
“Nine years for me.” Jackie smiled and reached for Rose’s hand again, but stopped just short. “Oh, you don’t know how good it is, to see you looking so young. Time moves so quickly, doesn’t it? But you - you’ll never age for me. Whenever I think of you, it’s just as you are now. Young and beautiful and so full of life - and alive. I watch Molly and Donald getting older day by day, and it’s such a wonder to see them grow up and become their own people, but you, Rose - you’re changing in such different ways. You’re going to live forever. And part of me will live forever with you.”
“Mum - I’m dying,” said Rose, nearly choking.
Jackie shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. The Doctor would never allow it.”
“Why else would I be here?"
“Oh, goodness, I’ve never understood anything the Doctor does for you,” said Jackie frankly. “But I’ll tell you this, Rose, I trust him. Maybe I didn’t at first, but I do now. He’ll take care of you. That’s what he’s always done, when it comes to you. I think you saw a chance to tell me what you’ve wanted to tell me, and you took it. That’s what you’ve always done, when it comes to the Doctor - take a chance on some impossible thing, and goodness knows, the Doctor told me it was impossible for you to return here. Yet here you sit on the bench next to Donald’s pond.”
“Mum-"
“Are you happy with him, Rose?”
Rose didn’t answer right away. “There’s things he hasn’t told me.”
“I suspect there’s things you haven’t told him.”
“Something happened while I was away. Something awful, and he hasn’t ever said a word.”
“I can’t imagine he’d want to tell you, if it was so awful,” reasoned Jackie, and Rose closed her eyes. “He loves you. He wants to protect you.”
“Wrap me in cotton wool.”
“I can understand the feeling.”
“No wonder you never liked him, you’re one and the same.”
Jackie straightened. “Oi, take that back!”
Rose laughed, and Jackie’s heart soared to hear it.
“Choose to go back to him, love,” said Jackie.
Rose’s eyes blinked open, shocked. “But - I don’t know if I’ll be able to see you again.”
“Your place is with him, not me, sweetheart,” Jackie replied, but it was hard. “I’m selfish enough to keep you here - but what’s the point of a bird locked in a cage?”
Rose was about to speak, and then she stilled, her eyes going wide. She rested her other hand to her stomach, cradling it, and her mouth dropped open. “Mum,” she gasped. “I felt it. I think. A fluttering.”
Jackie reached her hands out to hover over Rose’s, her face breaking into pure joy. “Did you?”
Rose began to laugh. “I think so. I didn’t think - so early-"
Jackie saw the joy break over her daughter. “Only a matter of time before he dances on your kidneys.”
“Yeah.” Rose rubbed her stomach thoughtfully. “I have to go back.”
Jackie swallowed and found it hard going. “I know.”
“Is it - really okay? Me going back to him?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” said Jackie thickly. “Remember what I told you before?”
“A strange woman walking around a marketplace a billion miles from earth,” Rose remembered, and Jackie blinked.
“I didn’t mean that - but yeah. Only not so strange. All children change, Rose - even if you were still here, you’d change. There would be a day when I wouldn’t quite recognize you. What’s the point of changing, if you’re changing into something you don’t want to be?”
“Mum-"
“You belong with him. This baby, too. You run right back to the Doctor, Rose. And you call me when you get there. That’s all I ask.”
“Mum, I-"
“Mummy!”
Both women on the bench sat up a little, and looked behind them. The sun was just rising now, casting golden yellow light onto the grass, and they could see a little girl running across the garden, tumbling toward the pond. Rose’s breath caught as the girl stumbled a little, nearly fell, then picked herself back up again and kept running.
“Molly?”
The girl skidded to a stop near one of the rose bushes, and buried her nose in the blooms, completely forgetting her original destination. Jackie laughed.
“She’d be distracted by a junebug if it caught her fancy. Reminds me of the Doctor, sometimes, she does. And such a gob on her, she’d give him a run for his money, make no mistake. Rose-"
Jackie turned back to her elder daughter - but found the bench empty. Her breath caught, and she patted the now empty space. It was just a bit warmer than the rest, and the tears that had filled her eyes all morning began to spill over.
“Mummy, who was that?” Molly draped herself over the back of the bench, having finally pulled herself away from the rose bush, and Jackie leaned over to kiss her.
“Did you see her, then? It was your older sister, Rose.”
“Oh,” said Molly. “She didn’t stay very long.”
“No, I expect she couldn’t. But she’ll ring in a day or so, and you can talk to her then.”
“I wanted to show her my treehouse.” Molly crawled over the back of the bench and plopped herself next to Jackie, snuggling up to her comfortably.
“She would have liked to see it,” said Jackie softly, resting her chin on Molly’s dark blonde head. The girl wasn’t Rose - would never be Rose - but she was herself, and Jackie couldn’t think of another person who she wanted to hold more just then. “We’ll send her a picture, yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Molly, content, and knowing it was needed, gave her mother another squeeze.
Jump to the Epilogue
Warnings: R. Oh, and it’s baby!fic.
Spoilers: For the sake of this story, S4 never happens.
Beta: runriggers
Part of the Crossroads series
A now AU and non-S4 compliant story. Ah well.
Part One: Reflections
Part Two: One Day
Part Three: Choices and Chances, Chapters One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine
Chapter Ten: Trust in Time..... Rose recovers the only way she knows how - she goes home.
Chapter Ten: Trust in Time
Hours later, Rose still slept. The Doctor and Martha stood by in the medical bay as the nanogenes settled into her body, performing an intricate dance as they pulsated and circled around her. To Martha, it seemed like years before they’d finally lifted away; the Doctor was all too aware that it had taken a full six minutes and 23 seconds before the nanogenes completed their work.
Her blood pressure was normal. Her heart rate was stabilized. Her temperature was a little high, but Martha had assured him that this was normal in pregnant humans. This ought to have given him some comfort at least, but it didn’t, because the storm had ended ten hours before, and Rose still slept.
She was in their bedroom now. There was no reason to keep her in the medical bay, and Martha had pronounced her healthy, as far as could be discerned. They had removed Rose’s sodden dress and settled her into the bed, and Martha had left the Doctor sitting in a chair to take first watch, intending to dispose of the ruined garment before going to sleep herself.
The Doctor watched Rose sleep, counting every steady breath. He rested his head on clenched fists, or buried his face in open palms, thinking the movement sufficed for exercise. She would sigh in her sleep, but she never spoke or moved or made any sort of indication that she might be near wakefulness. The Doctor did not dare take his eyes off of her.
It was a far cry from the last time he’d stood watch over Rose for such a stretch, when he’d pulled her from the crossroads, caked in blue custard. At the time, he’d been giddy with success, emotions running high, and flush with a fever he now knew was caused by the blue custard already hard at work, altering his physiology. He’d had no doubt that Rose would wake, so he’d talked to her, read to her, even tore himself away from her to make himself tea or work on the TARDIS, pausing every so often to brush her hair away from her face, or just look at her, grinning.
He could not smile now, nor bear to touch her. He could not look away, for fear he would miss a single breath. He did not dare speak, for fear of the words he might say.
He only tried to touch her thoughts once, just after the nanogenes in the medical bay. He reached out to her then, desperate to know if she was well, but every time the edges of his thoughts came near the silvery-turquoise glow that was her, she receded from him, backing away in terror. He didn’t think it was fear of him, not necessarily. Just fear of anyone invading her sense of self. Now he waited, watching, unable to touch her in any way that might bring comfort, and if ever a Time Lord prayed, he did then.
He watched her for hours, until the door opened again, and Martha, refreshed and rested, slipped inside. He could hear her footsteps as Martha approached the bed and felt for Rose’s pulse, habit taking precedence before any faith in Rose’s watch.
“Hello, Rose,” she said softly, setting Rose’s arm back down. Martha turned to the Doctor, the worry evident in her eyes. “Doctor, I’m here. You should rest.”
“Don’t need it,” said the Doctor. The exhaustion and hard edges in his voice surprised him, but Martha didn’t even blink.
“You’ve been sitting for ten hours now, and I’ve slept and eaten. I also happen to know that Rose was reading the baby book I’d brought her, so I have every intention of reading it to her. Unless you want to hear about the gruesome details of human pregnancy, Doctor, I suggest you go elsewhere.”
“I want to be here when she wakes.”
Martha sighed. “She won’t wake for a while, Doctor. The nanogenes worked on her for a long time, and they might have healed her and the baby, but she’ll still have a lot of recovery to do. The nanogenes did what they could - but the rest is up to her.”
“They should have healed her completely,” said the Doctor.
“Maybe they’re past their expiration date,” snapped Martha. “Look, I don’t care if you sleep or eat or run laps. But Doctor, please - at least get out of that chair.”
The Doctor didn’t move.
“You could program the TARDIS to go home, you know.”
He glanced at Martha then. “She’s three weeks further along. We’re too close to the baby’s danger zone.”
“I don’t know,” said Martha slowly. “I’ve been thinking - when you talked to Rose, after the San Salvador exploded - she was frantic, yeah? And we followed that phone call to here, three weeks later. Which means that’s where Rose already was. I think the Demuti skipped her three weeks ahead. I don’t think she’s more than three days further along than when we last saw her.”
The Doctor scrutinized Rose’s face for a moment before looking up at Martha’s sharply. “If you’re wrong-"
“Then there’s still about a week leeway,” said Martha coolly. “The books said it was dangerous, yeah, but not fatal. Not until much later. You make it quick and smooth and do it absolutely right - and I think she and the baby will be fine.”
The Doctor leaned forward to the bed, hovering over Rose. Her breathing was still even - she was just slightly warm to his touch - she could have been sleeping peacefully for all he knew. Somewhere in her, their baby still grew, every second building another block to being a full-grown child. His thoughts, now hesitant, reached toward her again, to the silver-turquoise that still shimmered just as strongly, just as frightened as before.
“Rose,” he whispered, just once, and he thought he saw her eyelids flicker, just a little. He smiled; it was the first real movement he’d seen since watching her collapse on the ship. “I’ll be right back.”
He stood and looked at Martha for a moment. “If you’re right-"
“Name the baby after me,” said Martha. He left the room in long strides, and five minutes later, half a page into chapter four, Martha heard the familiar whoosh whoosh. She took a minute to grin, and grasped Rose’s hand in hers.
“Bloody stubborn Time Lord,” she whispered. “Wake up soon, yeah? Because you are not allowed to sleep through every chapter of this book.”
Martha managed to keep reading through the Time Vortex, through re-entry, through landing. She read as the Doctor re-entered the room, and didn’t even hesitate when he crawled into the bed beside Rose, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to him. She read until her voice began to ache, and her eyelids grew heavy. She read as the TARDIS began to dim the lights, and she was still reading the last few words as the book slipped from her hands to her lap, and her head fell forward, fast asleep.
*
Rose walked.
The path stretched for miles ahead of her and miles behind, the bright blue gravel crunching beneath her feet as she kept up a steady pace. Rose wasn’t sure what lay on either side of the path; the horizon stretched to a beige blank nothing, and besides, Rose kept her focus squarely ahead of her, not quite seeing. The wind whistled but did not touch her. She could smell dust in the air but her skin felt clean. She could hear voices, dimly, but saw no one.
…we have taken for a greater cause…
…I doubt that…
Rose frowned, almost recognizing the voice. It made her stomach flutter. Still, she walked.
...she is not so innocent…she will leave you in the end…
…I’m sure she will…
Rose’s breath caught. She knew the second voice, she was certain of it. Just hearing it made something twist inside. Her chest pounded and her blood quickened, and Rose picked up her pace. The voices seemed to come from just ahead of her - perhaps when she reached them, she would know whose they were.
The path was narrowing, and Rose was careful to stay firmly on it. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she stepped off, but it couldn’t have been a good idea, not when the gravel made that lovely crunching sound, not when the voices were coaxing her forward.
She wondered why, if the second voice was so familiar to her, so instantly comforting, it was also so certain she would leave in the end. She would be sure to ask it, when she found it. If she found it - Rose was oddly tired. She thought she might have walked the path for years, but she couldn’t really remember them.
Then the path split.
Rose stood, her muscles aching with the sudden halt in movement. Her entire body was anxious to continue, but she stood, looking from one path to the other, waiting, uncertain. She had to remain on a path - she knew this, there was no other choice. But which path? Where was that voice she was following? The paths looked exactly the same to her, stretching into nothingness on ahead, blue and lonely.
Rose waited, hoping to hear the voice again.
She could hear the wind whistle, but the air was still. Every moment she did not move, her body ached, the muscles tensing and releasing with the strain of remaining in one place. Rose could not last much longer, standing there - something in her would break. She could feel it happening already, her entire body cracking and falling to pieces from indecision, but she kept herself still, hoping for some sort of indication which path to follow.
…Rose…
A different voice - softer, higher, filled with longing and resigned with acceptance. Rose turned down the left path and followed it.
*
Jackie Tyler woke early, convinced she’d heard someone calling her name.
It wasn’t Pete, who remained asleep beside her. It wasn’t the twins, who hadn’t called out for her in years. Jackie sat straight up in bed for half a minute before deciding it was her imagination, and settled back onto her pillow.
“Mum...”
She was up like a shot now, shoving the blankets aside and reaching for her robe. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, and there was sure to be dew on the grass, but Jackie had no doubt that she was meant to follow the voice. Into the garden, past the grounds, across England if necessary, but Jackie was following it.
“Jacks?”
“Hush, Pete, I’ll be only a minute,” said Jackie automatically. “Go back to sleep.”
“Is it Rose?” he mumbled. “Tell her hello.”
Jackie paused at the door, staring at her husband for half a moment. “I will,” she managed to say, before realizing he was already asleep, and she shut the door behind her.
There was dew on the grass, but Jackie had forgotten her slippers. She didn’t care. The damp soaked the bottom of her pajama pants as she walked through the grass to the far end of the garden. She hadn’t heard anything since first waking, but it didn’t seem to matter. Without knowing how, Jackie had a very good idea where she was meant to go, and she wrapped her robe around her tighter as she approached the small pond, noting that someone was sitting on the bench overlooking it. There was an ache in the pit of her stomach, and Jackie found it hard to breathe. She didn’t dare look at the face of the person; she simply approached the bench and sat down.
“I’m not sure how I got here,” said Rose. “I - I’m not sure I’m even here.”
“What do you remember?” asked Jackie, surprised how calm she sounded. She still couldn’t look at her daughter.
“I’m not sure - I think I was on a ship. A real ship, on water. Surrounded by pirates. It sounds like some stupid Saturday adventure film. And now I’m sitting in Pete’s garden. I think. I don’t remember a pond.”
“School project of Donald’s - he wanted to see if goldfish could survive outdoors.”
“Can they?”
“Not in January, no.”
“Mum-"
Jackie turned to Rose, unable to keep her eyes away any longer. Her daughter was just the same as she remembered her - hair a bit of a mess, and perhaps her eyes were red from crying, but she was still young and lovely. Jackie watched as Rose glanced to her as well, and she saw the momentary shock in Rose’s young eyes.
“Hair’s gone a bit greyer,” said Jackie. “But I’ve lost half a stone, what do you think?”
“You look wonderful,” said Rose. “Pictures don’t do you justice.”
“Go on with you.” Jackie was pleased anyway, and reached for Rose’s hand. “Is it-"
“I don’t know,” said Rose, just as curious, and they watched as their hands moved closer together, but they both stopped before contact was made. “I think - I think I might be dying, Mum.”
Jackie’s heart stopped. She looked up to her daughter’s face, but Rose was no longer looking back at her. The pain was written in the way Rose wrapped her hands around the edge of the bench, her back concave. Jackie could not think of a word to say.
“The sailors - they wanted something from me. I think they killed me to get it. I think that’s why I’m able to come here. Unless - am I dreaming?”
“No,” said Jackie. “You’re really here.”
“There so much I didn’t tell you, Mum. I didn’t want to tell you before, and I won’t get a chance to tell you again. I’m pregnant.”
Jackie hadn’t realized her heart had begun beating again, and now it leapt from her chest to her throat. There was nothing - nothing - more she wanted in the world at that moment than to wrap her arms around Rose. To touch her hair and kiss her on the cheek and tell her it would all be all right. Jackie hadn’t thought she would hear such good news immediately after hearing of her daughter’s imminent death, but found the idea of a baby overwhelmed everything else - which was how it should be. The strain of keeping away from her daughter filled her voice so completely that Jackie wasn’t sure how happy she sounded, and if she couldn’t touch Rose, she didn’t want there to be any mistake. “Oh, Rose!” she whispered. “My baby-"
Rose glanced up shyly. “I wanted so badly to be able to tell you. I don’t think the Doctor understood how unfair it was that I couldn’t.”
“A baby. Oh, sweetheart - how far along are you?” The excitement was there - Jackie could hear it. And when she saw Rose begin to smile, resting a hand on her stomach, it gave her hope that perhaps Rose felt it too..
“A month, maybe? But we think the baby won’t be born for over a year - alien and all that. Martha is going to keep a close eye.”
“Good, I’m glad. About Martha, that is - a year of pregnancy for you won’t be any fun at all. You’ll send me pictures the whole way, won’t you? And I want to know the moment the baby’s born.” Jackie laughed. “Think, I’ll be a grandmother. At least I have four years to get used to the idea.”
Rose stilled, her eyes opening in shock. Jackie clenched her hands to keep them from resting them on her daughter’s arm. “Mum?”
“That’s about how the times move, isn’t it?” continued Jackie. “A year for you, four or five for me? We won’t tell Pete - men are always impossible, he’ll be asking on a weekly basis if the baby’s born yet. The man can’t tell time even with twenty watches strapped to his wrist.”
“How did you know?” demanded Rose. “I didn’t ever want to tell you.”
“Mickey, of course,” said Jackie. “We realized it when he was so confused a few years ago, thinking you’d been here longer. Of course, we should have thought of it before, what with him living here for three years before we showed up. How long have you been with the Doctor now, Rose?”
“Two years.”
“Nine years for me.” Jackie smiled and reached for Rose’s hand again, but stopped just short. “Oh, you don’t know how good it is, to see you looking so young. Time moves so quickly, doesn’t it? But you - you’ll never age for me. Whenever I think of you, it’s just as you are now. Young and beautiful and so full of life - and alive. I watch Molly and Donald getting older day by day, and it’s such a wonder to see them grow up and become their own people, but you, Rose - you’re changing in such different ways. You’re going to live forever. And part of me will live forever with you.”
“Mum - I’m dying,” said Rose, nearly choking.
Jackie shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. The Doctor would never allow it.”
“Why else would I be here?"
“Oh, goodness, I’ve never understood anything the Doctor does for you,” said Jackie frankly. “But I’ll tell you this, Rose, I trust him. Maybe I didn’t at first, but I do now. He’ll take care of you. That’s what he’s always done, when it comes to you. I think you saw a chance to tell me what you’ve wanted to tell me, and you took it. That’s what you’ve always done, when it comes to the Doctor - take a chance on some impossible thing, and goodness knows, the Doctor told me it was impossible for you to return here. Yet here you sit on the bench next to Donald’s pond.”
“Mum-"
“Are you happy with him, Rose?”
Rose didn’t answer right away. “There’s things he hasn’t told me.”
“I suspect there’s things you haven’t told him.”
“Something happened while I was away. Something awful, and he hasn’t ever said a word.”
“I can’t imagine he’d want to tell you, if it was so awful,” reasoned Jackie, and Rose closed her eyes. “He loves you. He wants to protect you.”
“Wrap me in cotton wool.”
“I can understand the feeling.”
“No wonder you never liked him, you’re one and the same.”
Jackie straightened. “Oi, take that back!”
Rose laughed, and Jackie’s heart soared to hear it.
“Choose to go back to him, love,” said Jackie.
Rose’s eyes blinked open, shocked. “But - I don’t know if I’ll be able to see you again.”
“Your place is with him, not me, sweetheart,” Jackie replied, but it was hard. “I’m selfish enough to keep you here - but what’s the point of a bird locked in a cage?”
Rose was about to speak, and then she stilled, her eyes going wide. She rested her other hand to her stomach, cradling it, and her mouth dropped open. “Mum,” she gasped. “I felt it. I think. A fluttering.”
Jackie reached her hands out to hover over Rose’s, her face breaking into pure joy. “Did you?”
Rose began to laugh. “I think so. I didn’t think - so early-"
Jackie saw the joy break over her daughter. “Only a matter of time before he dances on your kidneys.”
“Yeah.” Rose rubbed her stomach thoughtfully. “I have to go back.”
Jackie swallowed and found it hard going. “I know.”
“Is it - really okay? Me going back to him?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” said Jackie thickly. “Remember what I told you before?”
“A strange woman walking around a marketplace a billion miles from earth,” Rose remembered, and Jackie blinked.
“I didn’t mean that - but yeah. Only not so strange. All children change, Rose - even if you were still here, you’d change. There would be a day when I wouldn’t quite recognize you. What’s the point of changing, if you’re changing into something you don’t want to be?”
“Mum-"
“You belong with him. This baby, too. You run right back to the Doctor, Rose. And you call me when you get there. That’s all I ask.”
“Mum, I-"
“Mummy!”
Both women on the bench sat up a little, and looked behind them. The sun was just rising now, casting golden yellow light onto the grass, and they could see a little girl running across the garden, tumbling toward the pond. Rose’s breath caught as the girl stumbled a little, nearly fell, then picked herself back up again and kept running.
“Molly?”
The girl skidded to a stop near one of the rose bushes, and buried her nose in the blooms, completely forgetting her original destination. Jackie laughed.
“She’d be distracted by a junebug if it caught her fancy. Reminds me of the Doctor, sometimes, she does. And such a gob on her, she’d give him a run for his money, make no mistake. Rose-"
Jackie turned back to her elder daughter - but found the bench empty. Her breath caught, and she patted the now empty space. It was just a bit warmer than the rest, and the tears that had filled her eyes all morning began to spill over.
“Mummy, who was that?” Molly draped herself over the back of the bench, having finally pulled herself away from the rose bush, and Jackie leaned over to kiss her.
“Did you see her, then? It was your older sister, Rose.”
“Oh,” said Molly. “She didn’t stay very long.”
“No, I expect she couldn’t. But she’ll ring in a day or so, and you can talk to her then.”
“I wanted to show her my treehouse.” Molly crawled over the back of the bench and plopped herself next to Jackie, snuggling up to her comfortably.
“She would have liked to see it,” said Jackie softly, resting her chin on Molly’s dark blonde head. The girl wasn’t Rose - would never be Rose - but she was herself, and Jackie couldn’t think of another person who she wanted to hold more just then. “We’ll send her a picture, yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Molly, content, and knowing it was needed, gave her mother another squeeze.
Jump to the Epilogue