Cheating Time, by Gillian Taylor and WMR; 8/9
Story: Cheating Time
Authors: dark_aegis and wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, others
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, no matter how much we beg, they're still not ours...
Summary: He's saved the universe over and over again. He's lost everything, including his own race. Doesn't the universe owe him something in return?
As always, so much thanks to nnwest and chloe_az for BRing. Sorry for the extreme dose of angst last chapter, but it had to be done. Thank you all so much again for your lovely and kind feedback - this chapter is specially dedicated to everyone who's been so faithfully commenting.
Chapter 1: The Lure of Temptation | Chapter 2: A False Sense of Security | Chapter 3: Home to Roost | Chapter 4: Consequences ( part a | part b) | Chapter 5: Armageddon | Chapter 6: Running out of Time | Chapter 7: Goodbye
Chapter 8: Keeping Promises
Jack tries for the third time to make sense of the interpreted alien transmission in front of him, but the characters are stubbornly refusing to form into any kind of sense whatsoever.
This is a message Tosh’s software couldn’t decode, which is how he has it. Ordinarily, this is a challenge he enjoys; he knows a number of alien languages, and can make an educated guess at the structure of many he doesn’t. He’s also got the kind of brain that functions well with logic and mathematics. Some people like Sudoku; Jack likes translating unknown alien languages. Tonight, though, none of his usual skills are working at all.
Maybe he needs a drink. Or to get laid.
Hell. It’s neither of those. It’s been like this ever since he came back to the Hub after refusing the Doctor’s invitation. The year that never was haunts him - he’d say it keeps him awake, only he barely sleeps in the first place. It’s just present in his mind all the time: the torture, the screams, the images continually being transmitted from Earth, the sight of the wizened Doctor powerless and reduced to living in a tent that was no better than a kennel. And his own endless, endless deaths.
There’s no-one, either, who shared his experience - not that he especially wants to talk about it, but no-one around even knows it happened. He’s talked on the phone with Martha a couple of times, but she wasn’t on the Valiant for most of it. Her experiences, though also traumatic, were different. And her family... they just want to forget. He’s even had one very late-night conversation with Martha where he told her about Retcon. She’s thinking about it.
“It’s not worth your time, Jack.”
His head snaps up as almost the last voice he ever expected to hear again speaks. God. This Doctor’s every bit as adept at creeping up on people as his last regeneration.
“What isn’t?” Reading his mind now, is he? He won’t approve of Retcon.
“That message.” A long finger flicks at the printout. “Coppalian. Trading planet, middle of the Berian system. This is just... well, their equivalent of air traffic control.”
Figures. He pushes the paper aside. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Oh, I could say that the pleasure’s all mine, Jack. And anyway, do I have to have a reason to look up an old friend?”
He bites back the reply that first springs to mind: yes, actually, seeing as it took you almost a hundred and forty years. They’re past that. He’s put it behind him. “You usually do,” he says after a moment.
“True,” the Doctor concedes, perching on the edge of his desk. “But this time I’m keeping a promise.”
Jack frowns. “A promise to whom?”
A smile curves over the Doctor’s face briefly, making him look even more boyish. “All in good time.” He stands abruptly. “Come with me? Just for a walk,” he adds quickly as Jack hesitates, wondering what he’s actually being asked.
He nods, also getting to his feet. “It’s usually quiet on the Plass this time of night. All the action’s down in the city and around Mermaid Quay.”
He’s leading the Doctor towards the main exit, but the Time Lord heads in a different direction. “Your lift’s a more direct route, isn’t it?”
How does he know about that? But the Doctor always seems to know all sorts of stuff, and he’ll never give a straight answer when he’s asked how. For all Jack knows, the reason could be that he’s been here half a dozen times, all in Jack’s future.
The Doctor’s silent on the way up and when they reach the square, his brief spell of good humour seeming to have vanished. He’s brooding again, and his eyes carry the same look of devastation he saw in the hours and days following the end of the nightmare. The death of the Master.
He’s had plenty of time to dwell on this, too, in the weeks and the long sleepless nights since the Doctor left. It’s bothered Martha too; that’s another thing they’ve talked about. Her family doesn’t understand at all, and doesn’t want to. As far as they’re concerned, the Doctor’s behaviour is incomprehensible.
They’ve reached the edge of the Plass and stand together looking out over Cardiff Bay. And still the Doctor’s said nothing.
He can’t hold the words back any more. They explode out of him. “You know, Doctor, I’ve tried. I’ve really tried to understand. And it’s not as if I’m not a pretty forgiving kind of guy myself. I’ve forgiven my team for things other commanders would’ve had them court-martialled for. But there’ve got to be limits. I said I’m trying to understand, but, you know, it’s hard when it feels about the same as Adolf Hitler being the last human alive and me treating him like a blood brother. Is DNA all that matters to you? You’ll forgive him committing near-genocide on my species, and torturing people you claim to care about, just because he was the only other Time Lord left alive?”
Even as he’s still speaking, he’s expecting the Doctor to turn that Oncoming Storm glare - he’s still got it, even in this new body - on him. Or else just turn around and walk away. It’s a surprise when the man’s still standing beside him when he’s finished.
“No, Jack. DNA’s far from all that matters to me. And you should know that.” The quietly-spoken, mildly offended reply takes him aback. “Did I forgive him? What right did I have to forgive that? That wasn’t the point. Do you know why he did all that?”
This conversation’s not going anything like he expected. Blankly, he shakes his head.
“He wanted to get my attention. Nothing new there. That was always why he did things like that. If he really wanted to enslave the Earth, he’d have done it long before we made it back. He was waiting for me to get there.” The Doctor turns, faces Jack, hands buried in his pockets. “It was a battle between us. He wanted me to hate him. Instead, I forgave him. That was the cruellest thing I could have done to him.”
Just as refusing to regenerate was the cruellest thing the Master could have done to the Doctor. And, despite the Doctor’s calmness now, it’s obvious that he is still grieving; that he would have preferred the Master to live regardless of what he did.
“Anyway, you’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion, Jack.” A faint smile crosses the Doctor’s face. “That’s not why I’m here. Said I had a promise to fulfil, for one thing. But if I’m going to do that...” A desolate look crosses his face again, and he looks down at the ground. “I need to tell you a story.”
“Is this the kind of story that’s better told with a drink?” Even after everything, he still can’t quell the urge to offer comfort.
“I changed history, Jack. Caused a paradox and almost wiped out the Earth’s population. Sound familiar to you?”
For a moment, he’s speechless. Yes, he did pretty much the same thing, and so did Rose, but the Doctor - he’d never have thought the Doctor capable of something like that. In another lifetime - well, many lifetimes ago, before his first death - he’d have been incredulous, would have lectured about irresponsibility and criminal stupidity.
Now, though, he’s a lot slower to judge, far quicker to understand. And what he understands is a man pushed beyond the limits of what he could bear, who’s lost everything he held dear over and over; abandoned, even, by people he called friends.
Yes, the Doctor abandoned him once. That didn’t mean he had to do the same thing when the offer of restitution was made, did it?
He gestures to suggest that they should walk. As the Doctor falls into step beside him, he says, as non-judgementally as he can, “What happened?”
In answer, he gets a story that leaves him incredulous, involving crossing timelines, changing history, Daleks, a devastated Earth and himself as one of the few surviving humans. And Rose. Rose, kidnapped from her past and having to make the painful decision to go back knowing that she’d lose what she held most precious for the sake of the timelines and the universe.
That the Doctor would do all that just to have Rose with him again is beyond belief, even though he of all people knows how much she meant to him and he to her. A man pushed beyond endurance, indeed - and how much of a part did he himself play in that?
“You had to lose her again,” he says finally, when it’s clear that the Doctor’s finished his recitation.
All he gets is a nod. And the truth dawns: it’s only just happened. The Doctor’s come straight from taking Rose back where she belongs.
He lays a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder in silent comfort. It’s all he can do. Words aren’t enough and would probably be resented, anyway.
“The promise I made was to you,” the Doctor says, after a long silence. “I told you - the you in the other timeline - that I owe you an apology. For lots of things, really, but mostly for running away from you.”
He swallows. At last, when he’s finally acknowledged that he’s never going to get it and he probably doesn’t need it anyway, he gets the apology. “And the promise?” His words emerge gruffly.
“That I’d tell you again. This you.” Abruptly, the Doctor faces him, brown eyes, wide open and, for once, hiding nothing. “And that it wasn’t anything you did, either, but you already know that.” He swallows and looks down at the ground. “Rose asked me to do something, too.”
“What, come back to see me?” That makes sense. The Doctor told him how despite the circumstances the two of them - the other him and Rose - were so happy to see each other; that Rose cried after saying goodbye to him.
“She said...” A cool hand folds around his suddenly. “I need a hand to hold.”
His? Martha’s, maybe. He could understand the Doctor seeing her as an acceptable substitute. But he’s not about to reject a friend in need. And anyway, it’s hardly as if he objects.
On impulse, he turns and wraps his arms around the Doctor, holding him tightly. As the Doctor’s arms fasten around him in return, he knows it was the right thing to do.
He’s not Rose. But, for now, maybe he’ll do.
***
It’s some time later when he and Jack begin the slow walk back to the Hub, he silent as he muses on what’s supposed to happen next. He really had no strategy for this visit beyond keeping his promise to Jack, though if Jack showed any willingness to travel with him again he’d make the offer. No, the real question, and the one he just can’t manage to broach with Jack, is how he’s supposed to do it. How humans do it. How does he put behind him all the loss he’s suffered and learn to move on? How does he make sure that he doesn’t repeat this kind of disastrous mistake?
Though Jack would probably tell him that realising that there’s a problem in the first place is eighty per cent on the way to a cure. Doctor, heal thyself. Maybe.
They’re halfway back when Jack says, as if it’s just occurred to him, “What exactly happened at Canary Wharf? How did Rose end up in the parallel universe?”
It’s a question he’d rather not answer. He’s had more than enough flashbacks of that agonising moment when he saw her being pulled towards the Void. But it’s not as if he’s not already confided in Jack tonight more than is his usual habit with anyone - or as if Jack doesn’t deserve to know. He loved Rose too.
So he explains, putting up with Jack’s interruptions and questions, despite wanting just to get it over with and change the subject.
Until Jack leaps on him, hugging him wildly, and exclaims, “I have an idea...”
***
The story changes, but the ending stays the same.
It's the motto of the Time Agency and it is a truism. It's the key to maintaining time. As long as the ending remains as it is supposed to be, there won't be any causality loops.
There will be small changes, yes. That's inevitable when you muck with time in this manner, but overall things will stay the same. Canary Wharf will happen, the Daleks and the Cybermen will be stopped and, supposedly, one Rose Tyler will be stuck across the divide of universes, never to return again.
Everything in its place and exactly where it's supposed to be. Jack steals a glance at the Doctor as he works the TARDIS's controls, noting the fine lines that have appeared in his brow. He remembers what happened on the Valiant, how the Doctor cried when the Master died in his arms, how the Doctor looked when he returned to the Hub for that first time after the year that never was. There was desperation then, yes. Hidden behind a cheeky smile and a carefree attitude.
This, though, is that much worse. If this doesn't work… No, it'll work. He's certain of that. No reason for it not to, actually. He was never in an alternate dimension. He never got covered in particles that are attracted to the Void. He wouldn't be in any danger in that lever room.
Unlike Rose.
The Doctor painted such a vivid picture of that moment, pain etched into his face as he recalled Rose falling towards the Void, of his screaming her name. Of the split second when Pete Tyler appeared, wrapped his arms around Rose and disappeared.
It's the least he can do to ease that pain once and for all. He moves around the centre console to rest a comforting hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "It'll work," he says, not certain if he's doing more to reassure the Doctor or himself with those words.
"It hasn't yet," the Doctor warns, and once again he doesn't know whose benefit those words are for.
"Y'know, Doctor, for a Time Lord, you can be a little thick," Jack drawls, smiling when the Doctor shoots him an annoyed look. "It's going to work. Isn't the key here that, while the story might change, the ending stays the same?"
A shudder ripples through the Doctor and, when he meets the Time Lord's gaze, the sorrow there sends a sympathetic shiver through his body. "Where'd you hear that?"
"It's the Time Agency's motto," he replies, somewhat confused by the question.
A short, barking laugh echoes through the console room. "The Time Agency! They've been stealing again. That's the Celestial Intervention Agency's motto. They'd been doing this sort of thing since before your Time Agency was created."
Bitterness laces through his words as he responds, "They're not my Time Agency."
"I'm sorry, Jack," the Doctor whispers, bracing his hands against the console. "I suppose I'm a bit out of sorts."
"It's okay," he replies. "You've got reason to be. How much longer?" It's amazing, really, how easy it is to forgive him now that he's heard the Doctor's earlier apology.
"One more minute," the Doctor says.
Together, they watch the pulse of the time rotor as the background sound of the TARDIS swells to a crescendo, even as the pulse slows to a stop.
The Doctor nods towards the doors. "It's time."
He smiles, then stands to attention and salutes the Doctor. "Let's change the story."
Five minutes later finds him running up the stairs, two at a time, trying to reach the top floor and the lever room. The Doctor is hard on his heels, but waits while he pushes his way through the stairwell door. It takes just a few more steps to reach the lever room, a second to meet Rose's startled gaze as she disappears and another second to duck back outside and shout out the Doctor's name. "Doctor! Doctor, where are you?"
There's a sound of running footsteps and then the past Doctor is there, staring at him in shock. "Jack?"
"Thought you could use some help," he says. He taps his wrist computer and walks some distance from the doorway, trusting the Doctor to follow him.
He just has to provide a distraction long enough for the future Doctor to grab Rose and get out. "Oh, and don't worry about the whole Game Station thing. We've already been through that. Or will go through that in your case. Don't ask."
The Doctor's beside him, still apparently in shock. "Why are you here?"
"Already told you," Jack replies, nodding at his wrist computer. There're sounds from behind them, but he doesn't look, instead tapping a button on his wrist comp that causes the device to beep loudly. "You need backup."
"No, I-" the Doctor begins, but cuts himself off, a flicker of sadness darting across his face. "You're right. I do."
"Let's go save the universe," Jack says, nodding back towards the lever room. "For old times' sake."
***
He's not leaving her behind again. It's just not going to happen and he's just going to have to deal with it. She's not leaving him and he's not leaving her behind because it's safe. If she wanted safe, she never would've gone with him in the first place.
She hits the yellow button, not worrying about how her mum's going to react. She's made her choice and that's final. "I think this is the 'on' switch…"
Rose blinks as she registers the change in location. Her mum's gone, as are Pete, Mickey and Jake. And, she suddenly realises, so is the Doctor. He was just here, too. Unless something has gone wrong.
Concerned, she starts for the door and then stops when she sees him. She expected him to be angry with her for defying him. To tell her that she can't see her mum ever again. She even had the perfect response planned out, to tell him that she made her choice a long time ago.
Doesn't matter, it seems. He doesn't look angry at all. Instead he looks frantic, almost frightened as he gestures at her to follow him. He mouths the word 'run' and she does, hurrying across the floor to grab his hand. She has the briefest of moments where she sees Jack - Jack! Oh god, Jack! - and someone who looks like the Doctor?
The Doctor. But the Doctor's holding her hand. Or seems to be holding her hand. It feels the same, he feels the same, but something's obviously not right. What's going on?
"There isn't time," the Doctor, the one touching her, murmurs urgently, tugging at her hand.
With one last look at the Doctor's doppelganger - unless this is the doppelganger - she lets herself be led out of sight and into a stairwell. Once the door closes, she plants her feet and refuses to move another step before she learns the truth.
"What's happening, Doctor?" she asks, confused. "How can you be in two places at once?" Two places at once? Oh. Oh, no. He can't be. He knows what'll happen. It's the same thing that happened that day with her Dad. "Unless, oh my god, are you changin' history?"
"No," the Doctor says, tightening his grip on her hand. "Just changing the story."
Like that answers the question. "I don't understand."
"We don't have time for this. Please, Rose. We need to get into the TARDIS. Neither of us can be outside when it happens. Trust me," the Doctor says, and is that a measure of pleading in his voice?
"What about Reapers?" she asks. "If you're here twice, where're the Reapers?"
"It's okay. They won't come. Please, Rose. There isn't any time."
"You'll tell me everything when we get to the TARDIS." She's not letting this slide. If he's changing history, she needs to know about it.
"Yes," he promises. "Now come on!"
This time, she follows him willingly.
***
For old times' sake.
Jack lets his lips curve upwards into a secretive smile as he sets the coordinates the Doctor's given him. It'd be deceptively simple to let himself believe that this is just like the old times. Rose is nearby, safe. The Doctor's at his side and, together, they're saving the world. Like the Game Station never happened, nor the century in between then and now.
Too bad reality doesn't work like that. Hell, too bad his mind doesn't work like that. He keeps catching the Doctor giving him curious, almost uneasy, glances, but he doesn't let himself react to them. The Doctor can give him looks as much as he wants.
Movement on the monitor catches his attention and he bites out a particularly poignant curse. "Cybermen. One floor down." He hopes the future Doctor's got Rose safely into the TARDIS. He doesn't want to consider what might happen if he didn't.
The Doctor looks grim as he turns back to his monitor. "Ha! The levers are operational."
Nodding at the Doctor, he watches the Time Lord set up his magnaclamp while he steadies himself next to the lever. From what he remembers, there will be Daleks and Cybermen flying through this room as they're pulled to the Void. He certainly doesn't want to get hit with a stray as he locks the lever into position.
"Ready?" the Doctor asks, giving him one last searching glance.
"See you in hell," he replies, immediately regretting those words when the Doctor flinches. Too late to take them back, though.
"Now!" the Doctor commands. Together, they shift the levers into position. The Doctor clings onto his clamp while he presses himself against the wall.
It takes a few minutes of watching Cybermen and Daleks fly past, including one terrifying instant where he needs to reset his lever, before it's finished and the breach seals itself shut.
That's it, then. He's about to say something of that nature to the Doctor when he catches sight of the other man's expression. He never wanted to see that expression again after the Valiant, and here it is. Devastation and a terrible sorrow.
This Doctor didn't get the chance to say goodbye. All the Doctor knows is that Rose is gone, stuck across a universal divide that can't be breached without causing two universes to collapse.
The breach is gone now, replaced by a deceptive-looking wall. And right now he's watching a man shatter before him.
If only Jack could reassure him. Well, he can't. The story might've changed, but the ending - this particular ending - stays the same.
He might as well not be here, he realises, as he watches the broken man walk ever so slowly to the wall.
Giving him one last look, Jack walks out of the room, leaving this Doctor to grieve in peace.
***
To be concluded...
Authors: dark_aegis and wendymr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, others
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, no matter how much we beg, they're still not ours...
Summary: He's saved the universe over and over again. He's lost everything, including his own race. Doesn't the universe owe him something in return?
As always, so much thanks to nnwest and chloe_az for BRing. Sorry for the extreme dose of angst last chapter, but it had to be done. Thank you all so much again for your lovely and kind feedback - this chapter is specially dedicated to everyone who's been so faithfully commenting.
Chapter 1: The Lure of Temptation | Chapter 2: A False Sense of Security | Chapter 3: Home to Roost | Chapter 4: Consequences ( part a | part b) | Chapter 5: Armageddon | Chapter 6: Running out of Time | Chapter 7: Goodbye
Chapter 8: Keeping Promises
Jack tries for the third time to make sense of the interpreted alien transmission in front of him, but the characters are stubbornly refusing to form into any kind of sense whatsoever.
This is a message Tosh’s software couldn’t decode, which is how he has it. Ordinarily, this is a challenge he enjoys; he knows a number of alien languages, and can make an educated guess at the structure of many he doesn’t. He’s also got the kind of brain that functions well with logic and mathematics. Some people like Sudoku; Jack likes translating unknown alien languages. Tonight, though, none of his usual skills are working at all.
Maybe he needs a drink. Or to get laid.
Hell. It’s neither of those. It’s been like this ever since he came back to the Hub after refusing the Doctor’s invitation. The year that never was haunts him - he’d say it keeps him awake, only he barely sleeps in the first place. It’s just present in his mind all the time: the torture, the screams, the images continually being transmitted from Earth, the sight of the wizened Doctor powerless and reduced to living in a tent that was no better than a kennel. And his own endless, endless deaths.
There’s no-one, either, who shared his experience - not that he especially wants to talk about it, but no-one around even knows it happened. He’s talked on the phone with Martha a couple of times, but she wasn’t on the Valiant for most of it. Her experiences, though also traumatic, were different. And her family... they just want to forget. He’s even had one very late-night conversation with Martha where he told her about Retcon. She’s thinking about it.
“It’s not worth your time, Jack.”
His head snaps up as almost the last voice he ever expected to hear again speaks. God. This Doctor’s every bit as adept at creeping up on people as his last regeneration.
“What isn’t?” Reading his mind now, is he? He won’t approve of Retcon.
“That message.” A long finger flicks at the printout. “Coppalian. Trading planet, middle of the Berian system. This is just... well, their equivalent of air traffic control.”
Figures. He pushes the paper aside. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Oh, I could say that the pleasure’s all mine, Jack. And anyway, do I have to have a reason to look up an old friend?”
He bites back the reply that first springs to mind: yes, actually, seeing as it took you almost a hundred and forty years. They’re past that. He’s put it behind him. “You usually do,” he says after a moment.
“True,” the Doctor concedes, perching on the edge of his desk. “But this time I’m keeping a promise.”
Jack frowns. “A promise to whom?”
A smile curves over the Doctor’s face briefly, making him look even more boyish. “All in good time.” He stands abruptly. “Come with me? Just for a walk,” he adds quickly as Jack hesitates, wondering what he’s actually being asked.
He nods, also getting to his feet. “It’s usually quiet on the Plass this time of night. All the action’s down in the city and around Mermaid Quay.”
He’s leading the Doctor towards the main exit, but the Time Lord heads in a different direction. “Your lift’s a more direct route, isn’t it?”
How does he know about that? But the Doctor always seems to know all sorts of stuff, and he’ll never give a straight answer when he’s asked how. For all Jack knows, the reason could be that he’s been here half a dozen times, all in Jack’s future.
The Doctor’s silent on the way up and when they reach the square, his brief spell of good humour seeming to have vanished. He’s brooding again, and his eyes carry the same look of devastation he saw in the hours and days following the end of the nightmare. The death of the Master.
He’s had plenty of time to dwell on this, too, in the weeks and the long sleepless nights since the Doctor left. It’s bothered Martha too; that’s another thing they’ve talked about. Her family doesn’t understand at all, and doesn’t want to. As far as they’re concerned, the Doctor’s behaviour is incomprehensible.
They’ve reached the edge of the Plass and stand together looking out over Cardiff Bay. And still the Doctor’s said nothing.
He can’t hold the words back any more. They explode out of him. “You know, Doctor, I’ve tried. I’ve really tried to understand. And it’s not as if I’m not a pretty forgiving kind of guy myself. I’ve forgiven my team for things other commanders would’ve had them court-martialled for. But there’ve got to be limits. I said I’m trying to understand, but, you know, it’s hard when it feels about the same as Adolf Hitler being the last human alive and me treating him like a blood brother. Is DNA all that matters to you? You’ll forgive him committing near-genocide on my species, and torturing people you claim to care about, just because he was the only other Time Lord left alive?”
Even as he’s still speaking, he’s expecting the Doctor to turn that Oncoming Storm glare - he’s still got it, even in this new body - on him. Or else just turn around and walk away. It’s a surprise when the man’s still standing beside him when he’s finished.
“No, Jack. DNA’s far from all that matters to me. And you should know that.” The quietly-spoken, mildly offended reply takes him aback. “Did I forgive him? What right did I have to forgive that? That wasn’t the point. Do you know why he did all that?”
This conversation’s not going anything like he expected. Blankly, he shakes his head.
“He wanted to get my attention. Nothing new there. That was always why he did things like that. If he really wanted to enslave the Earth, he’d have done it long before we made it back. He was waiting for me to get there.” The Doctor turns, faces Jack, hands buried in his pockets. “It was a battle between us. He wanted me to hate him. Instead, I forgave him. That was the cruellest thing I could have done to him.”
Just as refusing to regenerate was the cruellest thing the Master could have done to the Doctor. And, despite the Doctor’s calmness now, it’s obvious that he is still grieving; that he would have preferred the Master to live regardless of what he did.
“Anyway, you’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion, Jack.” A faint smile crosses the Doctor’s face. “That’s not why I’m here. Said I had a promise to fulfil, for one thing. But if I’m going to do that...” A desolate look crosses his face again, and he looks down at the ground. “I need to tell you a story.”
“Is this the kind of story that’s better told with a drink?” Even after everything, he still can’t quell the urge to offer comfort.
“I changed history, Jack. Caused a paradox and almost wiped out the Earth’s population. Sound familiar to you?”
For a moment, he’s speechless. Yes, he did pretty much the same thing, and so did Rose, but the Doctor - he’d never have thought the Doctor capable of something like that. In another lifetime - well, many lifetimes ago, before his first death - he’d have been incredulous, would have lectured about irresponsibility and criminal stupidity.
Now, though, he’s a lot slower to judge, far quicker to understand. And what he understands is a man pushed beyond the limits of what he could bear, who’s lost everything he held dear over and over; abandoned, even, by people he called friends.
Yes, the Doctor abandoned him once. That didn’t mean he had to do the same thing when the offer of restitution was made, did it?
He gestures to suggest that they should walk. As the Doctor falls into step beside him, he says, as non-judgementally as he can, “What happened?”
In answer, he gets a story that leaves him incredulous, involving crossing timelines, changing history, Daleks, a devastated Earth and himself as one of the few surviving humans. And Rose. Rose, kidnapped from her past and having to make the painful decision to go back knowing that she’d lose what she held most precious for the sake of the timelines and the universe.
That the Doctor would do all that just to have Rose with him again is beyond belief, even though he of all people knows how much she meant to him and he to her. A man pushed beyond endurance, indeed - and how much of a part did he himself play in that?
“You had to lose her again,” he says finally, when it’s clear that the Doctor’s finished his recitation.
All he gets is a nod. And the truth dawns: it’s only just happened. The Doctor’s come straight from taking Rose back where she belongs.
He lays a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder in silent comfort. It’s all he can do. Words aren’t enough and would probably be resented, anyway.
“The promise I made was to you,” the Doctor says, after a long silence. “I told you - the you in the other timeline - that I owe you an apology. For lots of things, really, but mostly for running away from you.”
He swallows. At last, when he’s finally acknowledged that he’s never going to get it and he probably doesn’t need it anyway, he gets the apology. “And the promise?” His words emerge gruffly.
“That I’d tell you again. This you.” Abruptly, the Doctor faces him, brown eyes, wide open and, for once, hiding nothing. “And that it wasn’t anything you did, either, but you already know that.” He swallows and looks down at the ground. “Rose asked me to do something, too.”
“What, come back to see me?” That makes sense. The Doctor told him how despite the circumstances the two of them - the other him and Rose - were so happy to see each other; that Rose cried after saying goodbye to him.
“She said...” A cool hand folds around his suddenly. “I need a hand to hold.”
His? Martha’s, maybe. He could understand the Doctor seeing her as an acceptable substitute. But he’s not about to reject a friend in need. And anyway, it’s hardly as if he objects.
On impulse, he turns and wraps his arms around the Doctor, holding him tightly. As the Doctor’s arms fasten around him in return, he knows it was the right thing to do.
He’s not Rose. But, for now, maybe he’ll do.
***
It’s some time later when he and Jack begin the slow walk back to the Hub, he silent as he muses on what’s supposed to happen next. He really had no strategy for this visit beyond keeping his promise to Jack, though if Jack showed any willingness to travel with him again he’d make the offer. No, the real question, and the one he just can’t manage to broach with Jack, is how he’s supposed to do it. How humans do it. How does he put behind him all the loss he’s suffered and learn to move on? How does he make sure that he doesn’t repeat this kind of disastrous mistake?
Though Jack would probably tell him that realising that there’s a problem in the first place is eighty per cent on the way to a cure. Doctor, heal thyself. Maybe.
They’re halfway back when Jack says, as if it’s just occurred to him, “What exactly happened at Canary Wharf? How did Rose end up in the parallel universe?”
It’s a question he’d rather not answer. He’s had more than enough flashbacks of that agonising moment when he saw her being pulled towards the Void. But it’s not as if he’s not already confided in Jack tonight more than is his usual habit with anyone - or as if Jack doesn’t deserve to know. He loved Rose too.
So he explains, putting up with Jack’s interruptions and questions, despite wanting just to get it over with and change the subject.
Until Jack leaps on him, hugging him wildly, and exclaims, “I have an idea...”
***
The story changes, but the ending stays the same.
It's the motto of the Time Agency and it is a truism. It's the key to maintaining time. As long as the ending remains as it is supposed to be, there won't be any causality loops.
There will be small changes, yes. That's inevitable when you muck with time in this manner, but overall things will stay the same. Canary Wharf will happen, the Daleks and the Cybermen will be stopped and, supposedly, one Rose Tyler will be stuck across the divide of universes, never to return again.
Everything in its place and exactly where it's supposed to be. Jack steals a glance at the Doctor as he works the TARDIS's controls, noting the fine lines that have appeared in his brow. He remembers what happened on the Valiant, how the Doctor cried when the Master died in his arms, how the Doctor looked when he returned to the Hub for that first time after the year that never was. There was desperation then, yes. Hidden behind a cheeky smile and a carefree attitude.
This, though, is that much worse. If this doesn't work… No, it'll work. He's certain of that. No reason for it not to, actually. He was never in an alternate dimension. He never got covered in particles that are attracted to the Void. He wouldn't be in any danger in that lever room.
Unlike Rose.
The Doctor painted such a vivid picture of that moment, pain etched into his face as he recalled Rose falling towards the Void, of his screaming her name. Of the split second when Pete Tyler appeared, wrapped his arms around Rose and disappeared.
It's the least he can do to ease that pain once and for all. He moves around the centre console to rest a comforting hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "It'll work," he says, not certain if he's doing more to reassure the Doctor or himself with those words.
"It hasn't yet," the Doctor warns, and once again he doesn't know whose benefit those words are for.
"Y'know, Doctor, for a Time Lord, you can be a little thick," Jack drawls, smiling when the Doctor shoots him an annoyed look. "It's going to work. Isn't the key here that, while the story might change, the ending stays the same?"
A shudder ripples through the Doctor and, when he meets the Time Lord's gaze, the sorrow there sends a sympathetic shiver through his body. "Where'd you hear that?"
"It's the Time Agency's motto," he replies, somewhat confused by the question.
A short, barking laugh echoes through the console room. "The Time Agency! They've been stealing again. That's the Celestial Intervention Agency's motto. They'd been doing this sort of thing since before your Time Agency was created."
Bitterness laces through his words as he responds, "They're not my Time Agency."
"I'm sorry, Jack," the Doctor whispers, bracing his hands against the console. "I suppose I'm a bit out of sorts."
"It's okay," he replies. "You've got reason to be. How much longer?" It's amazing, really, how easy it is to forgive him now that he's heard the Doctor's earlier apology.
"One more minute," the Doctor says.
Together, they watch the pulse of the time rotor as the background sound of the TARDIS swells to a crescendo, even as the pulse slows to a stop.
The Doctor nods towards the doors. "It's time."
He smiles, then stands to attention and salutes the Doctor. "Let's change the story."
Five minutes later finds him running up the stairs, two at a time, trying to reach the top floor and the lever room. The Doctor is hard on his heels, but waits while he pushes his way through the stairwell door. It takes just a few more steps to reach the lever room, a second to meet Rose's startled gaze as she disappears and another second to duck back outside and shout out the Doctor's name. "Doctor! Doctor, where are you?"
There's a sound of running footsteps and then the past Doctor is there, staring at him in shock. "Jack?"
"Thought you could use some help," he says. He taps his wrist computer and walks some distance from the doorway, trusting the Doctor to follow him.
He just has to provide a distraction long enough for the future Doctor to grab Rose and get out. "Oh, and don't worry about the whole Game Station thing. We've already been through that. Or will go through that in your case. Don't ask."
The Doctor's beside him, still apparently in shock. "Why are you here?"
"Already told you," Jack replies, nodding at his wrist computer. There're sounds from behind them, but he doesn't look, instead tapping a button on his wrist comp that causes the device to beep loudly. "You need backup."
"No, I-" the Doctor begins, but cuts himself off, a flicker of sadness darting across his face. "You're right. I do."
"Let's go save the universe," Jack says, nodding back towards the lever room. "For old times' sake."
***
He's not leaving her behind again. It's just not going to happen and he's just going to have to deal with it. She's not leaving him and he's not leaving her behind because it's safe. If she wanted safe, she never would've gone with him in the first place.
She hits the yellow button, not worrying about how her mum's going to react. She's made her choice and that's final. "I think this is the 'on' switch…"
Rose blinks as she registers the change in location. Her mum's gone, as are Pete, Mickey and Jake. And, she suddenly realises, so is the Doctor. He was just here, too. Unless something has gone wrong.
Concerned, she starts for the door and then stops when she sees him. She expected him to be angry with her for defying him. To tell her that she can't see her mum ever again. She even had the perfect response planned out, to tell him that she made her choice a long time ago.
Doesn't matter, it seems. He doesn't look angry at all. Instead he looks frantic, almost frightened as he gestures at her to follow him. He mouths the word 'run' and she does, hurrying across the floor to grab his hand. She has the briefest of moments where she sees Jack - Jack! Oh god, Jack! - and someone who looks like the Doctor?
The Doctor. But the Doctor's holding her hand. Or seems to be holding her hand. It feels the same, he feels the same, but something's obviously not right. What's going on?
"There isn't time," the Doctor, the one touching her, murmurs urgently, tugging at her hand.
With one last look at the Doctor's doppelganger - unless this is the doppelganger - she lets herself be led out of sight and into a stairwell. Once the door closes, she plants her feet and refuses to move another step before she learns the truth.
"What's happening, Doctor?" she asks, confused. "How can you be in two places at once?" Two places at once? Oh. Oh, no. He can't be. He knows what'll happen. It's the same thing that happened that day with her Dad. "Unless, oh my god, are you changin' history?"
"No," the Doctor says, tightening his grip on her hand. "Just changing the story."
Like that answers the question. "I don't understand."
"We don't have time for this. Please, Rose. We need to get into the TARDIS. Neither of us can be outside when it happens. Trust me," the Doctor says, and is that a measure of pleading in his voice?
"What about Reapers?" she asks. "If you're here twice, where're the Reapers?"
"It's okay. They won't come. Please, Rose. There isn't any time."
"You'll tell me everything when we get to the TARDIS." She's not letting this slide. If he's changing history, she needs to know about it.
"Yes," he promises. "Now come on!"
This time, she follows him willingly.
***
For old times' sake.
Jack lets his lips curve upwards into a secretive smile as he sets the coordinates the Doctor's given him. It'd be deceptively simple to let himself believe that this is just like the old times. Rose is nearby, safe. The Doctor's at his side and, together, they're saving the world. Like the Game Station never happened, nor the century in between then and now.
Too bad reality doesn't work like that. Hell, too bad his mind doesn't work like that. He keeps catching the Doctor giving him curious, almost uneasy, glances, but he doesn't let himself react to them. The Doctor can give him looks as much as he wants.
Movement on the monitor catches his attention and he bites out a particularly poignant curse. "Cybermen. One floor down." He hopes the future Doctor's got Rose safely into the TARDIS. He doesn't want to consider what might happen if he didn't.
The Doctor looks grim as he turns back to his monitor. "Ha! The levers are operational."
Nodding at the Doctor, he watches the Time Lord set up his magnaclamp while he steadies himself next to the lever. From what he remembers, there will be Daleks and Cybermen flying through this room as they're pulled to the Void. He certainly doesn't want to get hit with a stray as he locks the lever into position.
"Ready?" the Doctor asks, giving him one last searching glance.
"See you in hell," he replies, immediately regretting those words when the Doctor flinches. Too late to take them back, though.
"Now!" the Doctor commands. Together, they shift the levers into position. The Doctor clings onto his clamp while he presses himself against the wall.
It takes a few minutes of watching Cybermen and Daleks fly past, including one terrifying instant where he needs to reset his lever, before it's finished and the breach seals itself shut.
That's it, then. He's about to say something of that nature to the Doctor when he catches sight of the other man's expression. He never wanted to see that expression again after the Valiant, and here it is. Devastation and a terrible sorrow.
This Doctor didn't get the chance to say goodbye. All the Doctor knows is that Rose is gone, stuck across a universal divide that can't be breached without causing two universes to collapse.
The breach is gone now, replaced by a deceptive-looking wall. And right now he's watching a man shatter before him.
If only Jack could reassure him. Well, he can't. The story might've changed, but the ending - this particular ending - stays the same.
He might as well not be here, he realises, as he watches the broken man walk ever so slowly to the wall.
Giving him one last look, Jack walks out of the room, leaving this Doctor to grieve in peace.
***
To be concluded...