Episode Five

[ever_was]

banner art by alizarin_skies

written by ljg_fanfic



It was warm, but there was a breeze. Rose lifted her hair and turned so that it blew across the back of her neck.

"Rose! Rose, here comes one!"

She spun around, pasted on a grin and stuck her thumb out, but the sedan blew by, the driver's eyes gliding over them as it passed. The Doctor swung around, following the auto's path, his frown turning wry as he met Rose's eyes. "Not to worry! Another one will come along." He adjusted the rucksack on his shoulders. "America is famous for hitchhiking. Can't imagine traveling across America and not doing a bit of hitchhiking."

They were walking along a rural highway that wound through northern Minnesota, heading north to Duluth. Rose slipped her hands into her pockets, skimming over what was secreted there, and brought them out again. Today, today - I'll do it today. She had been going over and over it until she thought that now it was too late. She wasn't sure if he'd forgive her.

She had watched him die so many times under the Thames. She'd watched them take away his body, his arm falling limply and the sonic screwdriver falling unnoticed to the kerb. She'd waited until the UNIT lads had left and then reached down and pocketed it.

She had it now.

The Doctor's fingers brushed hers and she jumped. He gave her fingers a squeeze. "You're a bit preoccupied today."

"Mmm," she bit her lip, "sorry." Do it now. But the words wouldn't come. The road climbed up a rise and Rose ducked her head, her boots digging into the loose soil and weeds along the shoulder. They topped the hill and the Doctor paused, shading his eyes with a palm.

Rose took the moment to catch her breath. She followed the Doctor's gaze to where the highway dipped down again. There was an old truck on the side of the road with the bonnet up. A figure came around the side and waved at them. The Doctor lifted his arm and waved back.

"Doctor, I have something to tell you that might upset you." The words came out in a rush. She winced and looked up at him through her lashes.

He paused, the noon sun making shadows under his eyes. Tipping his head to the side, he considered her for a moment and nodded. "Alright."

"I have something that … well, it's not exactly yours, but it's not mine. It belonged to …" She had told him a little bit of it, but not this. Kicking at the rocky soil, she stumbled on. "In the other universe, the one where Donna turned right, where she never met you, you were there."

The Doctor nodded, "Other me."

"Yeah." Rose took a breath and slipped her hand in her pocket. When she was cannoning through time and space, witnessing timelines bend and turn, Rose Tyler had watched the Doctor battle the Racnoss under the Thames over and over -- in two minute blinks, ethereal and unable to come to his aid. The first time she watched the Doctor die, she was almost paralyzed by disbelief. She calmed herself with the thought that this wasn’t her Doctor.

She returned to the Torchwood control room reeling. Send me back! Again and again, she cannoned through dimensions, desperately seeking some way to change this, to fix this, to find the combination of circumstances that ended with the Doctor alive. She kept at it for almost forty-eight hours, throwing herself through time until Pete Tyler, tears in his eyes, shut her down. She railed at him, cursed him hopelessly, staggered home, collapsed, and slept for fourteen hours straight.

She woke up a different woman.

"You," her breath caught, dizzy with the sudden whirl of memory. She swallowed and shook her head. "… he died. I was there." Slowly, she pulled her hand out and lifted it between them. The sonic screwdriver glinted in the sun. "He dropped this."

The Doctor glanced down at the screwdriver, face a mask. "He died and didn't regenerate? And you were there?" He closed his eyes and shuddered. One slow hand reached up and his fingertips brushed along the sonic without lifting it. "That must have been," his eyes flicked up to hers and down again, "singularly difficult."

Rose shook her head. "No, I didn't see it. I got there too late that time."

His voice was faint. "That time?"

They stood facing each other, Rose with the sonic raised up between them, the Doctor with his hand lifted, not quite touching it. He sighed and lowered his hand. "It isn't mine, Rose. You earned it. It's yours."

The world wobbled and Rose closed her eyes. He had changed. Again. Was changing. She wasn’t' sure that she could keep up. "I thought," she blinked down at the sonic, "that you'd be angry 'cause I hadn't given it to you right away."

She heard him sniff deeply, and looked to see him staring off over her shoulder, chin set. "Yeah, well, I've been a right bastard, haven't I?"

Rose reached down with her free hand, taking his and sliding the sonic into his palm. "If it's mine, then it's mine to give." The Doctor's hand tilted, the sonic sliding into a comfortable grip. Rose smiled. Seeing the sonic in that clever, elegant hand set the world right. Very right. She peeked up at him. "You do remember how to use it, yeah?"

The Doctor raised his brow and looked down his nose, but a sudden grin spoiled the effect. "Yep."

"Well, then," she took a step forward and pointed down the hill with her chin, "let's see if we can trade some sonic-ing for a ride into Duluth, yeah?"

The Doctor walked down the shoulder of the highway, one hand in Rose's and one slung carelessly in his pocket, his fingertips brushing his sonic screwdriver. He'd need to check the settings; other him might have had different settings, and he didn't want to be surprised at an awkward moment.

He sent his gaze sideways toward Rose. That time.

As they came up to the disabled truck, a man leaned around the raised bonnet and grinned. "English man! Did you find what you were looking for?"

Rose lifted her brows. "What were you looking for?"

The Doctor dropped the rucksack next to the truck, met Rose's questioning eyes and shrugged. Myself?

He nodded a greeting to the Native American and turned back to Rose. "I would make introductions, but I never did get this fellow's name." He held his hand out to the Anishnabe. "It's good to see you again. I'm the Doctor and this is Rose."

"Good to meet you, Rose. I'm Charlie Peltier." He wiped his hand quickly on his blue jeans and held it out.

Rose grinned and shook his hand. "Hello, Charlie." She tipped her head toward the open truck bonnet. "You stuck?"

"Yeah." Charlie shook his head and patted the fender of the beat up truck. "Damned if I can figure out what's wrong with the old girl."

The Doctor's gaze went between Rose and the older man. How did she do that? The man's defenses were completely down and he was smiling at Rose as if they were old friends. Even a Dalek trusted Rose. The Doctor reached out with his hand and brushed her fingers. Rose leaned slightly toward him and took his hand.

"Why don't you let the Doctor take a look at it, Charlie?" Rose took a step forward, pulling the Doctor along.

"Sure." Charlie shrugged. "Have you ever worked on American Trucks?"

The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver. "Can't say that I have. But I'm pretty good with machines." He ducked under the bonnet and flicked the sonic on, hitting the settings button with his thumb. "Hmm. A bit of a disconnect here…" Tipping the sonic toward the firewall, he watched the readout. "I think there's a bad relay or switch under your dash, Charlie."

"That's a neat bit of tech," Charlie gestured at the sonic. He looked up and down the highway and sighed mournfully. "But we're miles from a garage."

Barely listening to the man, the Doctor moved around the truck to the driver's door, pulled it open and played the sonic under the dashboard. Ah! Well, this is simple enough. He could hear Rose and Charlie talking, getting to know each other. Well done, Rose! Squirming under the dash, he lay on his back, wedged his head between the brake pedal and the clutch, clamped the sonic between his teeth and reached up, tracing his fingers up the clutch pedal toward the pivot.

"Her' ee ar'." He pulled the sonic from between his teeth. "Here we are! Easy-peasy!" Sunlight blinded him when he peered past the underside of the dash, and he blinked. "Your clutch safety switch has dirty contacts, Charlie!"

Rose was standing in the road with the most peculiar look on her face. "What?" He looked down the length of himself, body stuffed under the truck's workings, hands tangled in the wiring, the door rim digging into his back, legs splayed out, and heels digging for traction in the loose dirt. "What?"

"Nothin'," Rose waved her hand. "Just havin' a bit of a Tardis moment, 's all."

His eyes met hers and the tremble on her lips steadied. Her lips moved, soundlessly: I love you. He nodded tightly. Quite right, too. Her eyes narrowed and he smiled lazily. "I love you, Rose Tyler," he said softly. Almost an afterthought, he played the sonic over the clutch safety switch, flicked the sonic off and reached a hand up to Rose.

She pulled him up with a faint grunt and he tottered into her. "Who's skinny now?"

"Let's give 'er a try, eh?" Charlie scooted into the driver's seat, hit the clutch with his left foot, and turned the ignition. The truck roared to life. "Hop in!"

The Doctor threw the rucksack in the back of the truck and followed Rose to the passenger door. She slid onto the seat and waved to where the steering wheel would be in a British auto. "Feels odd, yeah? Everything's backwards."

Charlie put the truck in gear and pulled out on the road. Lacing her fingers in his, Rose rested their hands on her thigh and pillowed her head on his shoulder. The Doctor brushed her index finger with his thumb. With his other hand, he rolled down the window and the summer wind blew through the car. It smelled green; grasses, wildflowers and the sharp scent of pine. Very lovely, the smell of summer. With a sigh, he leaned his head back, closed his eyes and tried not to think about things that were backward.

Rose sat back on the diner's bench seat and sipped her tea. They'd stopped for tea in Duluth, Charlie's treat. "You saved me a bundle in truck repairs," he said with a grin.

Other than a bit of confusion over "chips," "crisps" and "fries," it was a wonderful meal. The diner was bright and cheery, with yellow chintz curtains, and the waitress was friendly. Conversation had flowed mainly between herself and Charlie, the Doctor slipping into a brooding silence that was a bit worrying. He was staring out the window now, brow furrowed. Not angry, just not here.

She felt Charlie's gaze on them and sent him a smile. "Thanks for the ride and the meal, Charlie. It's been wonderful to get to know you a bit."

Charlie nodded, swallowing the last of his burger. "Yep! But, hey, I was thinking," his eyes went from Rose to the Doctor. "You said you were on vacation, just seeing a bit of the country? Why don't you come along with me? I'm heading up to the Baraga Powwow."

Rose felt the Doctor turn back from his brooding contemplation of the street. She looked at him, brows raised. Sounds good, yeah?

The corner of his mouth twitched up and he gave an almost imperceptible lift of the chin.

Rose turned and smiled at Charlie. "That sounds great. We'd be honored." Her smile turned into a grin. "What's a powwow?"

Charlie explained while they walked out to the truck. "Well, it's a camp-out, a market, a family reunion and church, all in one."

"Church?" Rose flicked a glance at the Doctor, but he was back in his own world.

Charlie nodded, conversation stalling as they piled into the truck. Rose watched the Doctor settle himself, slamming the door, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes with a sigh. His right hand slipped into his pocket and then slipped out and rested on his thigh. But it strayed toward the pocket again, his fingertips tracing the outline of the sonic. Rose watched his face, lit in a shaft of late day sunlight -- pale, a light sheen of sweat on his brow, expression carefully blank.

Give him a mo'. He'll sort it out.

"We're gonna get in late," Charlie said, checking his watch. "No help for it. We're about four hours out." He peered out the window at the sun. "This time of year, it'll be right at sunset."

Rose snuggled up against the Doctor, pillowing the back of her head against his shoulder. He sighed lightly and moved comfortably against her. "So," Rose said, "you said a powwow was like going to church?"

Charlie nodded. "Well, yeah, not Christian though. But we honor the Spirits in dance and song. The heart of the powwow is the circle." As he spoke, one hand held the steering wheel and the other gestured in the air between them. "The circle represents the earth, the moon, the four seasons, the four directions; it is the cycle of life from birth to death, the sun moving through the sky, the oneness of the people; it is endings merging with beginnings becoming now."

Rose sighed. "That's beautiful."

"Yes," Charlie agreed solemnly. "It is beautiful. And very powerful. The power of the world always works in circles, and everything tries to be round. The circle is in everything where power moves."

“Time,” the Doctor murmured, “is like that. I’ve always envisioned it as a great seething ball of very powerful time-stuff.”

“And here,” Charlie motioned with his hand, “we sit in the center, like the fire that burns in the center of the sacred circle. That is what “now” is - the fire that burns in the center of time.”

Rose laid her head against the Doctor’s shoulder. His chest rose in a deep breath and blew out warm against her temple.

Rose had fallen asleep against him and his left arm was completely numb. He ignored it and looked out at the thick pine woods that pressed up against the road. As the sun went down, shadows grew under the trees and the first stars showed in the east.

Charlie flicked the truck's headlights on. "We're almost there."

His words woke Rose. She opened her eyes, blinked and straightened herself slowly. The Doctor's arm fell limply to the seat. Pins and needles began to race up his arm and he breathed deeply; it was a fascinating feeling, really. Like being stung by a chorta beatle.

Rose was fascinating, too. She had woken without a sound, evaluated her surroundings and prepared her body for possible action. Like Leela. His fingers traced the sonic, wondering how much of her solitary travels she would share with him. She was a stranger to him in many ways, for all that she was his lover. Odd that, to think of her as his lover.

And where had that thought come from? Of course she was his lover. He loved her, she loved him and they had sex. Regularly. That made them lovers. But then, everyone loved Rose. Even that librarian in Leipzig, ancient, with papery skin and eyes that had seen too much, had loved Rose. Because Rose shone with such a breathtaking light, shone on him, my Doctor, yes, but on everyone, because she was Rose. Rather circular, but still. He clicked his tongue lightly against his teeth. Circles, again. Everyone loved Rose and Rose loved everyone and where did that leave him? And what had brought on this useless train of thought? Empty boxcars, all.

She squeezed his hand and he met her eyes. “Hello,” she said, smiling a little, but with that look she gave him when she wasn’t sure of his response.

He squeezed her hand back. “Hello.”

“Here we are!” Charlie spoke out, flicking his turn signal and down-shifting. “We made good time.”

A thin ribbon of blacktop wove through the trees; pines, spruce, cedar and fir, mostly, with a few deciduous hardwoods sprinkled in. A stand of paper-birch glowed white as a fairy glade.

“’S lovely,” Rose murmured.

The Doctor nodded. “Yes. In a rather dark way.”

“It feels…” she bent toward him, looking out the window, “old.”

“… and in it there lived yet, ageing no quicker than the hills, the fathers of the fathers of trees, remembering times when they were lords.” He whispered the words, so that Rose leaned into him to hear.

She turned her face and brushed her lips against his temple. “That’s lovely, too.”

“Did this universe have a Tolkien?”

He could feel her nod against his shoulder. “Yes,” she said, “but Eowyn died and Pippin stayed in Minas Tirith.”

The truck stopped at a checkpoint. Charlie paid for their campsite, again waving away Rose’s cash, and the truck pulled slowly into the campground.

“I didn’t notice a tent with your gear,” Charlie said, jabbing a thumb back toward the rucksack in the truck bed. “I’ve got a two-man that you can use.”

“Oh!” Rose objected, “but what where will you sleep?”

“Don’t worry about me! If one of my brothers doesn’t have room, I’ll stay with one of my cousins.” Charlie gave them both a measuring look. “Have either of you ever set up a tent?”

Rose looked at the Doctor, head tilted to the side. He cleared his throat. “Weelll,” he temporized, “it may have been a while.”

Charlie rolled down his window. “Hey, Buck! Where’s Mom and Dad?” A man at a campsite waved and called something, motioning down the road. Charlie waved back, and continued to wave and call hellos to people sitting around campfires or putting up tents.

Rose had never seen an American campground and peered out curiously into the gloaming. There were no motor homes or cabins; little tents spread out in rainbow colors under the trees, each campsite bright with a flickering fire.

Charlie pulled the truck into their designated camp site. “I’ll give you a hand.” He swung his door open and hopped out of the truck. The Doctor followed and Rose slid out behind him. Charlie climbed into the truck bed and rummaged around. “Why don’t you two find a good spot and clear off the pine cones and rocks, eh?”

Twenty minutes later, the tent was set up and a small campfire was crackling in the fire pit. The Doctor wrestled three stumps into place for seats and Charlie sat with them, holding his hands up to the blaze.

“Before you go to bed tonight, remember to bank the fire or you won’t have any coals to start up a new fire for breakfast.”

The Doctor stroked his fingertips along the outline of his sonic, but nodded. “Will do.”

“There’s a coffee pot here, and some coffee and tea in this little bag. The outhouses are right down the road.” He paused, looking at the Doctor with that measured look again. “We, some of my family, are having a sweat at midnight.” His gaze turned to Rose, “And the women are going down to the lake for a water ceremony.” He paused again, watching their reaction. “You are welcome to join us.”

The Doctor turned to Rose, took in her dancing eyes, and turned back to Charlie. He nodded. “We would be honored.”

To Be Continued in Episode Six