Doctor Who: Too Late
The first trial run didn’t exactly go as planned.
Rose Tyler grasped the temporary police blockade with a sinking feeling of disappointment, despite the mission’s apparent success. She’d done it. She’d done the impossible. And he’d been here - she was sure of it. The scene in front of her had the Doctor written all over it.
But she’d arrived too late.
*
It had been one year, ten months and six days since the last time she saw him.
Six-hundred-and-sixty-five long days since the moment he’d literally faded from her life. She’d spent far too many days since remembering that moment; committing his words to memory and wishing she knew the words he’d run out of time to say.
“Am I ever going to see you again?” she’d asked, to which he’d replied, “You can’t.”
She’d believed him at the time. Of course she’d believed him. He was the Doctor. She’d trust him even if he dumped her for six hours on a mysterious new planet by herself and then ‘phoned her later to explain that he’d gotten himself into an awkward situation involving six Slitheen and a giant dormouse. And yeah, she’d already been there, done that.
But after a few weeks of mindless admin work for Torchwood, constantly daydreaming of the past, Rose Tyler had started to question his words. After all, not even the Doctor knew everything. And sure, half the time she’d had no idea what he was blathering on about, but she wasn’t completely thick. She’d survived, right? She’d made it through some of the Earth’s toughest battles.
*
Mickey helped her. He’d risen pretty high up through Torchwood too. It was good to be comfortable around him again. He was perhaps the only person who understood what she was struggling with - because he’d travelled with the Doctor too.
Sometimes she and Mickey re-lived some of their old adventures together - “Remember the horse on that spaceship? What did he name it again - Arnold? No, Arthur!” - like old friends looking back on their youth. It always started with laughter. Full, glorious, side-splitting laughter.
Their laughter was always short-lived.
Because no matter what, whenever she looked back on her time with the Doctor, she knew that she was remembering the best days of her life. That was it. Sure, Torchwood occasionally let her loose to go chasing after some alien or another, but that was work. Life with the Doctor had been constant play.
And you couldn’t get much better than life with the Doctor. Even on the slow days, propping their feet up in the TARDIS and bickering over a portion of chips, life with the Doctor was always an adventure.
It had been almost two years, and she needed to feel that rush again.
So when the stars began to go out, Rose knew that this was her moment. That’s when she’d marched up to the Head of Torchwood and made her demands.
She knew all about the newer, allegedly safer teleportation device they were creating. She’d filed enough reports about it, after all. And if anyone should be risking everything to jump through the dimensions, it was her.
Torchwood didn’t need much convincing. One good thing about this world? Being Pete Tyler’s daughter now came with special privileges - like instant authority with just one phone call.
Plus, Rose had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of Torchwood’s team were all too cowardly to volunteer for the trial runs.
*
And now here she was.
Too late.
She turned her back on the scene. A red-headed woman rushed up to her, radiating excitement. Rose hardly heard a word. She’d arrived too late. This time.
Next time, she’d find him.
The Doctor said she couldn’t? Tough. Pete’s world needed him just as much as her old world did. And Rose Tyler wasn’t going to stand around waiting for someone else to save the universe. If she had to, she’d rip a hole through the dimensions and drag him through by his hair.
This time, she wasn’t going to stand around and wait for Mum or Mickey or even the Doctor himself to tell her it wasn’t possible.
He couldn’t find a way back to her? Fine. Then she’d find him.