Crossroads - When Dex Was Three (1/1)
Title: When Dex Was Three
Characters: The Doctor, Rose Tyler, Sarah Jane Smith, Ianto Jones, Dex Tyler
Warnings: PG. Oh, and it’s kid!fic.
Spoilers: For the sake of this story, S4 never happens.
Beta: runriggers
Summary..... Dex Tyler is three years old, and life is good. And then, one day, with absolutely no warning whatsoever (if Dex Tyler is to be believed), it isn’t.
A/N: Set in the Crossroads universe, between Choices & Chances and A Blue Gravel Path. But can be read independently of either. This was written for ladychi, who asked for a Dex story. I hope she likes it.
When Dex Was Three
When Dex was three, life was very fine. He had a dad who was funny and crazy and lots of fun, and a mum who was sweet and kind and laughed a lot. He had an Aunt Sarah Jane who he loved with both his hearts, and she would marry him when he was bigger.
He had a book full of geometrical problems, which fit perfectly in his lap at the dinner table, thus neatly avoiding conversations about space/time anomalies and other parental nonsense.
He lived in a TARDIS which took him almost anywhere. He had a room all to himself, with paper pictures of pterodactyls pasted on the walls, and when the lights were out, just before he fell asleep, the ceiling showed him pterodactyls flying overhead.
Dex named them Myfanwy, Trelawney, and Hank. Mum said they were very good names for pterodactyls. Dad just sighed and said that Dex wasn’t allowed to go back to Torchwood until he was twenty-seven.
“That makes it a little difficult, doesn’t it?” Mum asked him while they waited in the TARDIS console room. The TARDIS was upset, and refused to move another inch unless someone - preferably Dex’s dad - worked on the loose circuitry under the grating. The TARDIS didn’t like it when Dex tried to fix anything wrong with her. Dex wasn’t entirely certain the TARDIS wasn’t just mad that he’d used his crayons to color the walls in the corridor by the attic, but since he also wasn’t sure that his parents knew about the drawings yet, he decided not to say anything.
Dad, therefore, was under the console, his screwdriver clenched between his teeth. Really, Dex supposed that Dad was probably happy to be there, all things considered. Dad was almost always under the TARDIS console; Dex figured it was a very nice place to hide when Mum was on the warpath. At least, Dad very practiced at speaking around his screwdriver. “How so?”
“I thought the plan involved charging up the TARDIS before we’re grounded.”
This caught Dex’s attention. He looked up from his geometry sets, worry creasing his brow. “The TARDIS is grounding you? What did you do?”
Dad’s head popped out from beneath the console. “I didn’t do anything,” he said.
“I certainly didn’t do it single-handedly,” replied Mum, amused.
“Well, actually....”
“Doctor.”
Dad grinned at her. “Dex, go to your room.”
Dex let out a howl. “I’m not grounded! All I did was ask a question, and you said I’d never get in trouble for asking a question.”
“You asked two questions,” said Dad, wiggling his fingers at him, and Dex turned to his other, more reasonable parent.
“Mum!”
Mum covered her face with her hands. Dex thought she might have been laughing. “Dex, you’re not in trouble. Doctor, you might be.”
“HA!” yelled Dex.
“WHAT?” yelled Dad.
“I told you I wasn’t grounded!” Dex continued, bouncing on the jump seat.
“We’re all being grounded,” said Mum firmly.
Dex’s bounced fell flat. “Me too?!”
“You too. Just for a little while.”
“I didn’t do anything!” wailed Dex, and Mum smoothed back his hair and kissed his forehead.
“I know, love, but it’s not for very long.”
Dex wrinkled his nose. “But it’s been months since we’ve gone anywhere interesting. Dad never takes us anywhere anymore.”
“Oi!” protested Dad. He was back under the console, concentrating on a set of green wires that ought to have been blue.
“We can’t go into the Vortex, sweetheart, remember?” said Mum, still trying to smooth Dex’s hair. “You’re going to have a baby sister, and that means we can’t travel for a little while.”
“I remember,” said Dex, just a bit sulkily. “Can’t we just leave the baby with Aunt Sarah Jane and go somewhere anyway?”
“No,” chorused his parents, and Dex let out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t like the baby,” he said. “She’s already causing trouble.”
“Tyler women,” said Dad cheerfully, and Mum glared.
“We haven’t discussed names,” said Mum.
“Rose, I’ve given you half a dozen names at least. It’s not my fault you don’t like any of them.”
“Ranihowiwhatzit,” suggested Dex. He was ignored, which pleased him to no end, because it meant he could go back to his geometry sets. And keep half an eye on his parents, who were liable to think of something worse than a sister to spring on him.
His mum was holding her stomach, as if it was twisting funny. She’d been doing that a lot lately. Dex wondered if she was getting an ulcer. People did that. He read about it. “I thought maybe we could name her Carissa. After your Carissa on Gallifrey.”
Dad didn’t say anything; Dex watched them over his geometry sets. It was like a wash of cold water dousing him in his seat, looking at his father just then. The nice thing about Dad, he was very open and friendly and didn’t mind when Dex’s thoughts popped into his. Normally, Dad’s thoughts were a very pleasant place to be.
But now...they were rather strange, and bleak, a bit like a long hallway with fading lights. Dex felt a strange pit in his stomach. He didn’t like it. It was cold. Dad was cold...cold and...Dex couldn’t put his finger on it. Cold and....something.
“No,” said Dad eventually. He sat up and gripped Mum’s hand. His eyes were shiny - Dex wondered if he’d ever seen them so bright. Mum cried all the time, especially lately - most likely sad about the soon-to-arrive baby sister. But Dad... “Thank you, Rose, that’s nice, but...no. She’ll be her own person, this one. No memories.”
Mum smiled, and kissed his brow before turning to Dex quickly. “Here, Dex, come feel,” she said, and Dex slipped off the jump seat, leaving his geometry book behind. Mum took his hand and pressed it to her stomach, and Dex could feel the swift motions inside.
“Feel her?” asked Mum, and Dex nodded, resting his cheek against the bump his parents claimed was his sister. Silly place for a sister, really. Dex didn’t believe she was in there at all; that was just a joke Dad was trying to play. And if it was his baby sister, she was taking up all of Mum’s lap space, which was just another reason not to like her. Dex missed his mother’s lap.
“Dad promised me Shakespeare,” insisted Dex, his voice muffled against his mother’s shirt, and she laughed.
“You and me both,” said Mum.
*
When Dex was three years and one month, life was not quite so fine. He had a dad who pretended to be cheerful about being grounded. He had a mum who yawned and smiled a lot. He had an Aunt Sarah Jane who said he wasn’t big enough to marry her yet.
He had a book of geometrical problems which was more than half full.
He lived in a TARDIS that wasn’t going to be taking him much of anywhere for a while, and the pterodactyls in his room now sported pink ribbons and were carrying bundles of pink blankets to and fro. Even Hank.
Dex was not pleased.
“They’re like storks,” said Mum, when Dex complained at bedtime.
“They’re pterodactyls,” said Dex, mystified as to why Mum did Not Understand. Normally Mum always Understood.
Dex liked visiting Torchwood most days. Uncle Captain Jack was funny and could hold his breath for hours. Miss Gwen was pretty, even if she did tend to hover over him, and she always had biscuits under her desk, and never minded slipping him extra to shove in his pockets.
But better than all of them - most impressive of all - was Ianto Jones. Tall. Unflappable. And he wore a suit.
“I wear a suit,” protested Dad when Dex mentioned this after meeting the great and mighty Ianto Jones for the first time.
“Not like him,” said Dex.
“My suit’s better,” insisted Dad.
“No, it isn’t,” replied Dex in a tone he hoped conveyed his Unflappableness.
“Doctor,” said Mum, grinning, “do you have Ianto-envy?”
The day the TARDIS landed in Cardiff was a Very Bad Day. Mum cried, and stubbed her toe, and was so upset that Dex’s hair wouldn’t stay flat on his head that she threw the comb across the room. Dad had dark circles under his eyes, and his shirt was misbuttoned and untucked. When Dex decided to pour himself a glass of milk and ended up spilling the entire litre out on the galley floor, accidentally frying the circuits leading to the transitional crossfluxes - Dad yelled.
Dad never yelled.
But he yelled.
Ianto Jones waited for them in the little shop that posed as the Torchwood front door. Dex felt as though his father was walking him to his execution. There was every possibility that Dad would tell the great and mighty Ianto Jones of every last transgression Dex had committed over his entire lifetime, and the shame was almost too much to bear. He clutched his book of geometrical problems, and craned his neck to look at the very tall man with the very stern expression on his face.
“Dex, Doctor,” said Ianto Jones gravely. “How is Miss Tyler doing today?”
“She’s well, Ianto, ta for asking,” said Dad. “Can you watch Dex for a bit while Martha checks in on Rose? The TARDIS is charging, and several of her systems are down for the cycle...”
Dex waited for Dad to mention the spilled milk, but it never came. Instead, he felt the full scrutiny of Ianto Jones’s gaze turned on him, and he stood straight up, basking in the inspection.
“Of course,” said the man, his voice stilted. “Jack and Gwen are-"
“Oh, you’ll do,” said Dad, and he patted Dex on the head and was out the door. Ianto Jones sighed.
“What am I to do with you?” he asked the boy.
Dex swallowed, and his bravado tumbled like jelly. Dad had yelled, Mum was upset, and Ianto Jones had asked him a question. The entire world was topsy-turvy.
And there was going to be a sister.
“Just a corner...to do my geometry.”
Ianto Jones led him down the twisty turny passageways, into the Hub. Dex clapped when the real Myfanwy screeched above them.
“Can we feed her?” he asked excitedly, forgetting he was in the presence of Ianto Jones, and when the great man turned to him, Dex nearly wilted. The man let his gaze linger for a minute.
“No,” he said, and his face was dark and drawn.
“Oh,” whispered Dex, very small.
Ianto Jones led him into a conference room, and Dex scrambled onto a chair at the large table. He bounced a little, experimentally, and rested his chin on the table top, gazing at Ianto Jones.
“Yes?” asked Ianto Jones, the epitome of patience.
“You don’t have to watch me,” said Dex. “I’ll be good.”
“I told your father I would,” said the man. He sat across from Dex and unfolded a laptop to begin working. Dex could just see his face above the screen.
“Whatcha doin’?” asked Dex.
Ianto Jones sighed. “Ordering supplies for the Hub.”
“Oh. Why? Can’t you just go and pick them up in a shop?”
“No,” said Ianto Jones, sounding just a little irritated. “Don’t you have homework?”
“No,” said Dex. “It’s not homework. You only do homework at home. I’m not at home, I’m here, so it’s Torchwood-work. Or maybe Hubwork. I like the sound of that better, Hubwork. Is what you’re doing Hubwork too? Or is it Torchwood-work?”
“Both, I suppose,” said Ianto Jones, but Dex barely stopped.
“I like Torchwood. I don’t think Dad likes you very much, but he has to come here because Mummy loves Uncle Captain Jack so much. I do too. Do you love Uncle Captain Jack, Ianto Jones? I think you should. He’s brave and he can hold his breath for hours and hours and hours and hours. I think I want to work for Torchwood when I grow up, except Mummy says I have to go to school first. Dad doesn’t think school is such a good idea because I know everything already, but Mummy says it’s not about knowing, it’s about so-cial-i-za-tion, and being able to interact with other people and be nice about it. Dad says he’s perfectly capable of teaching me so-cial-i-za-tion but Mummy just laughs at him. She laughs at Dad a lot. My Aunt Sarah Jane laughs at him too. Do you think my Dad is funny?”
“I’m not sure,” said Ianto Jones, who couldn’t take his eyes off the little boy across from him.
“If I go to school, I’ll get homework. Except then I have to do it just so, and turn it in, and I don’t have to turn in anything right now. I like that much better. Except Dad looks at my geometry sets sometimes and asks how long it took me to do them, and he puts on his glasses and he frowns and frowns. He says when I’m ready, he’ll let me do calculus. I’ve been doing geometry sets for weeks and weeks. I hope school isn’t all geometry sets. Did you go to school, Ianto Jones?”
“When I was little, I did.”
Dex’s eyes grew five sizes. “You were little?”
“As little as you.”
“You’ve never been little.”
“I was, a very long time ago.”
Dex thought about this. “Like before America and lavatories and Robin Hood?”
Ianto Jones’s mouth quirked, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not to smile. “Not quite as long ago as that.”
“But that was a long time ago.”
“For you, perhaps,” said Ianto Jones, and he glanced at the clock. “Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes? There’s something I must attend to downstairs.”
Dex nodded, and watched Ianto Jones as he left the room. He waited a count of five, and then scrambled off his chair and raced to follow the man. It was easy; Ianto Jones didn’t look behind him, walked very loudly, and Dex had no trouble slipping through the doors as Ianto Jones went deeper into the Hub. Deeper than Dex had ever been, really, and Dex’s hearts pounded with the excitement of it.
After a thousand very long minutes of following Ianto Jones, finally they reached a little round door, and through it, a little dark room, with glass along one side. Ianto Jones stood at one end, fixing something in a bowl, and Dex crept closer, eager to see what was on the other side of the glass.
The creature was dressed in a black sort of pyjamas, almost a uniform. Its head was rounded and bare, and its teeth protruded in a way that reminded Dex of a piranha. It crouched on the ground, its hand drawing lazy circles in the dust, and Dex’s hearts stopped, because something about the creature felt familiar, in a very oddly expanded and too frighteningly large way for him to examine.
“Dex,” said Ianto Jones, and Dex looked up to see the man standing above him, holding the bowl in one hand. Ianto Jones looked extremely cross; it wasn’t hard to determine why. “You were supposed to stay upstairs.”
“Sorry,” whispered Dex, still struggling with the odd feeling.
Ianto Jones placed the bowl on the ground before him, and pressed a button on the wall above Dex’s head. The bowl faded away; after a moment, it appeared in the cell with the creature, who looked at it, and went back to its circles.
“What is it?” asked Dex.
“A Weevil,” said Ianto. “We call her Janet.”
Dex stared. “She’s a girl?”
“Yes.”
And then it clicked - he didn’t know why it would matter that the creature was a girl, but somehow, it did. Dex knew what the odd feeling was - it was the creature, Janet. It was the same sort of thing he’d felt from his Dad on the TARDIS, when his mum had said that woman’s name. Dex looked at Janet’s rounded back, and remembered the way his father had held his mother’s hand, and just as suddenly: he knew.
It wasn’t sad exactly. Dex knew sad. He felt it from Mum, sometimes, when she called his Gran. He felt it from Sarah Jane, sometimes, when she looked at his father.
No, this was bigger than sad. This was something else entirely. This was lonely.
“Why’s she lonely, Ianto Jones?” asked Dex.
“She lost someone she loved,” said Ianto Jones softly.
Dex fell forward on his knees, and crawled a little closer to Janet. It was frightening, the loss he felt from her. It was overwhelming, far and above what he’d felt from his Dad. The only way Dex could describe it was a deep, dark well encompassing everything nearby, the world sloped towards it so that there was no hope of escape. It yawned in front of him, deep and dark and without color. It had rough-round edges, and craggy corners, and the wind that whistled through it sounded like pain and guilt and hopelessness.
“Poor Janet.”
“Dex-"
It happened so quickly, Dex never had a chance to react. Janet stood up on her haunches and roared; Dex’s blood froze in his veins, and a heavy hand clamped on his shoulder to hold him back. Janet sunk down to the floor again, returned to her traced circles, and Dex swallowed his hearts back into place.
“Who did she lose?” asked Dex.
“Her child,” said Ianto Jones, his hand still on Dex’s shoulder, his voice thick.
And this is when Dex realized something else. The deep, encompassing well wasn’t just from Janet - it was someone else, too.
Dex looked up at Ianto Jones, surprised almost to see that the man was staring at Janet, spellbound. “Ianto Jones,” he said, and slowly the man turned his gaze on him. “Who did you lose?”
For a moment, Dex thought Ianto Jones would not answer; his mouth was firm, his hand dropped from Dex’s shoulder. He swallowed a few times, his throat contracting, and Dex waited for several lifetimes.
“Lisa,” said Ianto Jones finally. He sounded like Mum, before she told the very end of the story of the Game Station, of the Bad Wolf saving the Oncoming Storm with a kiss. Or the other way ‘round, depending on if Dad was in the room.
Dex took Ianto Jones’s hand, almost without thinking, which was a very good thing. If he had stopped to consider, he would never have dared.
By the time Dad came to collect him, Dex and Ianto Jones were back in the conference room, sitting on opposite sides of the table, both quietly doing their Hubwork.
“Goodness,” said Dad. “I thought I’d find one of you tied up like a Christmas goose while the other put out the fires.”
“Dad,” groaned Dex. “Ianto Jones wouldn’t tie me up.”
“I never said you were the one I expected tied up,” said Dad dryly.
“We’ve been very well behaved,” said the great and mighty Ianto Jones. Which put Dad in his place very nicely.
*
When Dex was three years and two months, life was certainly not one bit fine. He had a dad who was always worried. He had a mum who was always tired. He lived in a TARDIS that was so busy with a Secret Project behind a Locked Door that he no longer had pterodactyls flying in his bedroom.
He had a book of geometrical problems, but he’d filled it up ages ago and no one had bought him a new one.
“Your mum is sleeping,” said Dad when Dex tried to barge into their bedroom, intent on finding a bookshop from which to purchase a new geometry text.
“So you take me,” demanded Dex.
“Your mum is sleeping,” Dad insisted, as though this argument was logical.
Dad had been logical once. But the more Mum slept, the less logical (and more worried) he became.
Aunt Sarah Jane was sympathetic, which was handy, since the TARDIS had been parked in her back garden for three weeks. She took Dex by the hand and they walked to the bookshop on the High Street for a new set of geometrical problems.
“I don’t see why we all have to be grounded,” complained Dex as he jogged alongside Aunt Sarah Jane, who had a very long stride. She held tightly to his hand, which was nice, because her hand was warm, and Dex’s was not.
“Your dad is the only one who can fly the TARDIS,” said Aunt Sarah Jane. “Well, can is a very strong word, in his case. Attempts might be more accurate.”
“I can fly it.”
“I’m sure you could.”
“I can.”
“Here we are,” said Aunt Sarah Jane, opening the door to the bookshop. “Now, what sort of book would you like?”
Dex thought about the way his father had frowned at the last book of geometry sets. He shoved the memory aside very hard. “Something with lots of calculus.”
Mum would have tried to press books about rabbits on him, but Aunt Sarah Jane led him straight back to the theoretical physics section. Dex loved Aunt Sarah Jane with both his hearts.
It was a completely blissful twenty minutes of inspecting, scanning, deliberating, and sorting. Finally, Dex narrowed the field to two books, which he handed to Aunt Sarah Jane. “Which one?”
Aunt Sarah Jane examined each in turn. “Which do you think will take you the longest?”
Dex slapped his hand on the thicker book. “That one.”
Dad would have glanced through the book, scoffed and called it overly simplistic tripe - assuming, of course, that he wasn’t completely upset with Dex for moving on to calculus ahead of schedule. Aunt Sarah Jane tucked the book under her arm and went to pay for it. Dex’s love for Aunt Sarah Jane washed over him and filled the entire shop with adoration.
“I thought we’d go to the museum,” said Aunt Sarah Jane.
Dex’s eyes shone; he would have followed her anywhere. “Do they have pterodactyls?”
“Oh, scads of them.”
The tube was brilliant. Dex was absolutely positive that the conductor was from Raxacoricofallapatorius, because the voice was just that metallic. The person sitting on the far end of the train had a little device in his ear that allowed him to talk to anyone. And in the passageway between the station and the museum, there was a harpist playing Beethoven.
“I met him,” Dex chirped happily as he skipped next to Aunt Sarah Jane. “Beethoven, I mean. He smelled funny.”
“Did he now?”
The pterodactyl was made of plastic. It was highly disappointing, in comparison. But Aunt Sarah Jane bought him an ice cream, and held his book while he chased the pigeons in the courtyard.
It was while chasing the pigeons that Dex happened to look back to see Aunt Sarah Jane, sitting alone at the table, waiting for him patiently. There was no one else around for miles, she might have been the last human in the world. But she had a little smile on her face, like she didn’t mind not having anyone near. Dex stopped in his tracks as the pigeons all settled on the ground around him, and thought.
When he was done thinking, he walked back to Aunt Sarah Jane, and sat next to her.
“Aunt Sarah Jane,” he said, very gravely, “do you know Uncle Captain Jack?”
Aunt Sarah Jane blinked. “I’ve met him, once or twice.”
“And do you know Aunt Martha?”
“Of course I do, didn’t you see me giving her tea before we went to the bookshop?”
“And you have Luke.”
“Yes, I do.”
“So you won’t be lonely while you’re waiting for me to grow up, will you?”
Aunt Sarah Jane shifted just enough to face him. “Now, Dex Tyler, what brings this on?”
“I just want to make sure,” explained Dex. “Because being lonely is awful.”
“Yes, it is. But that doesn’t explain how such a thought entered your mind.”
“Do you know Janet?”
“The lady at the coffee shop?”
“No, the Weevil in Uncle Captain Jack’s basement.”
Aunt Sarah Jane (oh how Dex loved her) never batted an eye. “I don’t think I know that Janet.”
“She’s lonely. She lost her child, Ianto Jones says. She’s so lonely, I thought it would swallow me up.” Dex shivered, even if he wasn’t cold, and then Aunt Sarah Jane’s arms were around him, holding him close.
“Oh, Dex,” she said softly, resting her cheek on his head, and Dex thought perhaps shivering wasn’t quite so bad. “You shouldn’t have to feel lonely.”
“Ianto Jones felt lonely too, when he looked at her. I think anyone who looks at Janet feels lonely. And I don’t want you to feel lonely, because it’s awful.”
“Do you feel lonely now?”
Dex thought for a moment. “No. Because I have you, and Mummy, and Dad.”
“And a baby sister.”
“But she’s not here yet.” Dex wrinkled his nose, thinking again. “Do you think she’s lonely?”
“Who, your sister?”
“Because she’s not here yet. She doesn’t have us yet.” Dex wriggled out of Aunt Sarah Jane’s arms and looked anxiously up at her. “She’s all by herself, wherever it is she is, until we get her. Do you think she’s lonely?”
Aunt Sarah Jane’s breath caught, and for a brief moment, Dex thought that she might not have the answer. It was a horrible thought, just as frightening as being lonely.
“No, of course not,” said Aunt Sarah Jane finally. “How can she be lonely? She knows she’s going to be with you soon. She’s coming home to you, and she must be very tremendously excited.”
Dex thought about his little sister, somewhere in the middle of somewhere, very very excited, and marching with confidence down an obscure path lined with blue stones, heading towards the TARDIS. He grinned.
“She has us already, doesn’t she, even if she doesn’t know it.”
“Exactly,” said Aunt Sarah Jane, and they threw away the ice cream wrapper, and took the Tube home again, and just as they were leaving the station, Aunt Sarah Jane’s mobile rang.
“Hello - oh, Doctor!”
Dex’s ears perked up, and he skipped alongside Aunt Sarah Jane.
“Oh, yes, we’ve just left the Tube. That’s wonderful. Of course I can - any requests? All right then, we’ll be back in half an hour.”
“That was Dad,” said Dex happily as Aunt Sarah Jane put her mobile away.
“We have to pick up chips for your mum, and curry for the rest of us,” Aunt Sarah Jane told him. These things were accomplished in record time, and Dex was given the all-important task of carrying both his book and the chips, which was difficult since the chips were greasy and he didn’t want to damage his book.
Aunt Martha greeted them in the front garden. “Hello, Dex,” she said. “Run into the TARDIS with the chips, quick. Your mum’s in her room, she wants to show you someone.”
“Someone?” said Dex, and ran.
Mum was pleased and pale though her cheeks were flushed, and when Dex ran helter-skelter into the room, flinging himself on the bed, she sat up and wrapped her arms around him tightly. Dex buried his head in her chest; there seemed to be ample space to cuddle on her lap.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, his voice muffled, and he looked up at her, frowning. “You’re different.”
“You have a sister now,” said Mum, and she looked over to where Dad sat on a rocking chair, holding a bundle of pink blankets in his arms. Dad grinned at Dex, the lines around his eyes crinkling just so. He was in shirtsleeves; Dex almost never saw Dad in shirtsleeves. It was very strange.
“Come meet your sister, Dex,” said Dad, and Dex slid off the bed and walked over to his father.
The baby was very red, and when she yawned, Dex could tell she had no teeth. “She’s little.”
“Yes, she is,” agreed Dad.
“Not from where I’m sitting,” said Mum, laying back down on the bed.
“She’s awfully red.”
“She’ll be better soon.”
“Why didn’t you let me go, too?” asked Dex, crossing his arms and glaring at his father.
Dad blinked. “Go where?”
“To get her!”
“We got her right here, Dex,” said Mum.
“But I wanted to be here when she arrived!” wailed Dex, and the baby woke up and whimpered. “See? She agrees.”
Dad jiggled the baby a little, but it didn’t help; she kept squalling in short bursts, and finally he handed her over to Mum, who sat against the pillows and began to fiddle with her blouse.
“Dex,” said Dad, and he leaned over his knees to look Dex in the eye, “I didn’t think you’d want to be here. You haven’t been very excited about it.”
“I didn’t think about her being alone before she got here,” explained Dex patiently. “I wanted to be here to tell her she’s not alone anymore.”
Dad frowned, and Dex could tell he was confused. “But she wasn’t alone. She was here all the time.”
“How?”
“Dex,” said Mum, in a patient and amused tone Dex recognized all too well, “don’t you remember? She was in my tummy.”
Dex rolled his eyes. “That’s just fairy stories. How could she fit?”
Both his parents went very quiet for a moment. “Dex,” said his father finally. “Didn’t you notice Mum’s tummy was...bigger?”
“No,” said Dex honestly, looking back and forth between them. “Maybe her lap was smaller.”
Mum grinned, and held her arm out to him. Dex climbed up on the bed and rested against her side, watching his sister.
There was a knock on the door; a second later, Aunt Sarah Jane and Aunt Martha appeared bearing plates of curry.
“Dinner is served,” announced Aunt Martha. “Rose, did Dex give you your chips?”
“I’ll eat them in a minute,” said Mum.
“Oh, is that her?” asked Aunt Sarah Jane, and Mum grinned.
“Herself indeed.”
“What’s her name?”
Dad swallowed a bite of curry. “Nina.”
Aunt Sarah Jane sighed. “Oh, good lord. You’re going to name the next one Octavian, aren’t you?”
“It’s an idea!” defended Dad, and Dex looked up at his mother.
“We’re none of us alone, are we?” he clarified, his eyes darting back and forth between his parents.
“Nope,” said Dad. “Wherever we are, we’ve always got each other waiting somewhere for us to arrive.”
“Good,” said Dex.
*
When Dex was three years and three months, he had a mum who loved him, and a dad who played with him. He had a baby sister who was very nearly completely useless, but she grinned whenever she saw him.
He lived in a TARDIS that took him nearly everywhere he wanted to go, and in his room, he had three pterodactyls who flew in lazy circles when it was time to sleep.
He had a whole shelf full of books of calculus problems, courtesy of Uncle Captain Jack, all waiting to be solved.
He had an Aunt Sarah Jane who would marry him when he was older, and he had Ianto Jones who would help him with his homework when he went to school, if Mum had her way.
And sometimes, he thought about Janet, in the very deep dark of Torchwood, and how awful it would be not to have any of those things to come home to, if one was lost and alone and afraid.
Dex had all of those things, and was very glad.
And life was very fine.
Jump to Chapter Twelve of A Blue Gravel Path --- or, if you're reading this series in chronological order, go to Chatper One instead.
Characters: The Doctor, Rose Tyler, Sarah Jane Smith, Ianto Jones, Dex Tyler
Warnings: PG. Oh, and it’s kid!fic.
Spoilers: For the sake of this story, S4 never happens.
Beta: runriggers
Summary..... Dex Tyler is three years old, and life is good. And then, one day, with absolutely no warning whatsoever (if Dex Tyler is to be believed), it isn’t.
A/N: Set in the Crossroads universe, between Choices & Chances and A Blue Gravel Path. But can be read independently of either. This was written for ladychi, who asked for a Dex story. I hope she likes it.
When Dex Was Three
When Dex was three, life was very fine. He had a dad who was funny and crazy and lots of fun, and a mum who was sweet and kind and laughed a lot. He had an Aunt Sarah Jane who he loved with both his hearts, and she would marry him when he was bigger.
He had a book full of geometrical problems, which fit perfectly in his lap at the dinner table, thus neatly avoiding conversations about space/time anomalies and other parental nonsense.
He lived in a TARDIS which took him almost anywhere. He had a room all to himself, with paper pictures of pterodactyls pasted on the walls, and when the lights were out, just before he fell asleep, the ceiling showed him pterodactyls flying overhead.
Dex named them Myfanwy, Trelawney, and Hank. Mum said they were very good names for pterodactyls. Dad just sighed and said that Dex wasn’t allowed to go back to Torchwood until he was twenty-seven.
“That makes it a little difficult, doesn’t it?” Mum asked him while they waited in the TARDIS console room. The TARDIS was upset, and refused to move another inch unless someone - preferably Dex’s dad - worked on the loose circuitry under the grating. The TARDIS didn’t like it when Dex tried to fix anything wrong with her. Dex wasn’t entirely certain the TARDIS wasn’t just mad that he’d used his crayons to color the walls in the corridor by the attic, but since he also wasn’t sure that his parents knew about the drawings yet, he decided not to say anything.
Dad, therefore, was under the console, his screwdriver clenched between his teeth. Really, Dex supposed that Dad was probably happy to be there, all things considered. Dad was almost always under the TARDIS console; Dex figured it was a very nice place to hide when Mum was on the warpath. At least, Dad very practiced at speaking around his screwdriver. “How so?”
“I thought the plan involved charging up the TARDIS before we’re grounded.”
This caught Dex’s attention. He looked up from his geometry sets, worry creasing his brow. “The TARDIS is grounding you? What did you do?”
Dad’s head popped out from beneath the console. “I didn’t do anything,” he said.
“I certainly didn’t do it single-handedly,” replied Mum, amused.
“Well, actually....”
“Doctor.”
Dad grinned at her. “Dex, go to your room.”
Dex let out a howl. “I’m not grounded! All I did was ask a question, and you said I’d never get in trouble for asking a question.”
“You asked two questions,” said Dad, wiggling his fingers at him, and Dex turned to his other, more reasonable parent.
“Mum!”
Mum covered her face with her hands. Dex thought she might have been laughing. “Dex, you’re not in trouble. Doctor, you might be.”
“HA!” yelled Dex.
“WHAT?” yelled Dad.
“I told you I wasn’t grounded!” Dex continued, bouncing on the jump seat.
“We’re all being grounded,” said Mum firmly.
Dex’s bounced fell flat. “Me too?!”
“You too. Just for a little while.”
“I didn’t do anything!” wailed Dex, and Mum smoothed back his hair and kissed his forehead.
“I know, love, but it’s not for very long.”
Dex wrinkled his nose. “But it’s been months since we’ve gone anywhere interesting. Dad never takes us anywhere anymore.”
“Oi!” protested Dad. He was back under the console, concentrating on a set of green wires that ought to have been blue.
“We can’t go into the Vortex, sweetheart, remember?” said Mum, still trying to smooth Dex’s hair. “You’re going to have a baby sister, and that means we can’t travel for a little while.”
“I remember,” said Dex, just a bit sulkily. “Can’t we just leave the baby with Aunt Sarah Jane and go somewhere anyway?”
“No,” chorused his parents, and Dex let out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t like the baby,” he said. “She’s already causing trouble.”
“Tyler women,” said Dad cheerfully, and Mum glared.
“We haven’t discussed names,” said Mum.
“Rose, I’ve given you half a dozen names at least. It’s not my fault you don’t like any of them.”
“Ranihowiwhatzit,” suggested Dex. He was ignored, which pleased him to no end, because it meant he could go back to his geometry sets. And keep half an eye on his parents, who were liable to think of something worse than a sister to spring on him.
His mum was holding her stomach, as if it was twisting funny. She’d been doing that a lot lately. Dex wondered if she was getting an ulcer. People did that. He read about it. “I thought maybe we could name her Carissa. After your Carissa on Gallifrey.”
Dad didn’t say anything; Dex watched them over his geometry sets. It was like a wash of cold water dousing him in his seat, looking at his father just then. The nice thing about Dad, he was very open and friendly and didn’t mind when Dex’s thoughts popped into his. Normally, Dad’s thoughts were a very pleasant place to be.
But now...they were rather strange, and bleak, a bit like a long hallway with fading lights. Dex felt a strange pit in his stomach. He didn’t like it. It was cold. Dad was cold...cold and...Dex couldn’t put his finger on it. Cold and....something.
“No,” said Dad eventually. He sat up and gripped Mum’s hand. His eyes were shiny - Dex wondered if he’d ever seen them so bright. Mum cried all the time, especially lately - most likely sad about the soon-to-arrive baby sister. But Dad... “Thank you, Rose, that’s nice, but...no. She’ll be her own person, this one. No memories.”
Mum smiled, and kissed his brow before turning to Dex quickly. “Here, Dex, come feel,” she said, and Dex slipped off the jump seat, leaving his geometry book behind. Mum took his hand and pressed it to her stomach, and Dex could feel the swift motions inside.
“Feel her?” asked Mum, and Dex nodded, resting his cheek against the bump his parents claimed was his sister. Silly place for a sister, really. Dex didn’t believe she was in there at all; that was just a joke Dad was trying to play. And if it was his baby sister, she was taking up all of Mum’s lap space, which was just another reason not to like her. Dex missed his mother’s lap.
“Dad promised me Shakespeare,” insisted Dex, his voice muffled against his mother’s shirt, and she laughed.
“You and me both,” said Mum.
*
When Dex was three years and one month, life was not quite so fine. He had a dad who pretended to be cheerful about being grounded. He had a mum who yawned and smiled a lot. He had an Aunt Sarah Jane who said he wasn’t big enough to marry her yet.
He had a book of geometrical problems which was more than half full.
He lived in a TARDIS that wasn’t going to be taking him much of anywhere for a while, and the pterodactyls in his room now sported pink ribbons and were carrying bundles of pink blankets to and fro. Even Hank.
Dex was not pleased.
“They’re like storks,” said Mum, when Dex complained at bedtime.
“They’re pterodactyls,” said Dex, mystified as to why Mum did Not Understand. Normally Mum always Understood.
Dex liked visiting Torchwood most days. Uncle Captain Jack was funny and could hold his breath for hours. Miss Gwen was pretty, even if she did tend to hover over him, and she always had biscuits under her desk, and never minded slipping him extra to shove in his pockets.
But better than all of them - most impressive of all - was Ianto Jones. Tall. Unflappable. And he wore a suit.
“I wear a suit,” protested Dad when Dex mentioned this after meeting the great and mighty Ianto Jones for the first time.
“Not like him,” said Dex.
“My suit’s better,” insisted Dad.
“No, it isn’t,” replied Dex in a tone he hoped conveyed his Unflappableness.
“Doctor,” said Mum, grinning, “do you have Ianto-envy?”
The day the TARDIS landed in Cardiff was a Very Bad Day. Mum cried, and stubbed her toe, and was so upset that Dex’s hair wouldn’t stay flat on his head that she threw the comb across the room. Dad had dark circles under his eyes, and his shirt was misbuttoned and untucked. When Dex decided to pour himself a glass of milk and ended up spilling the entire litre out on the galley floor, accidentally frying the circuits leading to the transitional crossfluxes - Dad yelled.
Dad never yelled.
But he yelled.
Ianto Jones waited for them in the little shop that posed as the Torchwood front door. Dex felt as though his father was walking him to his execution. There was every possibility that Dad would tell the great and mighty Ianto Jones of every last transgression Dex had committed over his entire lifetime, and the shame was almost too much to bear. He clutched his book of geometrical problems, and craned his neck to look at the very tall man with the very stern expression on his face.
“Dex, Doctor,” said Ianto Jones gravely. “How is Miss Tyler doing today?”
“She’s well, Ianto, ta for asking,” said Dad. “Can you watch Dex for a bit while Martha checks in on Rose? The TARDIS is charging, and several of her systems are down for the cycle...”
Dex waited for Dad to mention the spilled milk, but it never came. Instead, he felt the full scrutiny of Ianto Jones’s gaze turned on him, and he stood straight up, basking in the inspection.
“Of course,” said the man, his voice stilted. “Jack and Gwen are-"
“Oh, you’ll do,” said Dad, and he patted Dex on the head and was out the door. Ianto Jones sighed.
“What am I to do with you?” he asked the boy.
Dex swallowed, and his bravado tumbled like jelly. Dad had yelled, Mum was upset, and Ianto Jones had asked him a question. The entire world was topsy-turvy.
And there was going to be a sister.
“Just a corner...to do my geometry.”
Ianto Jones led him down the twisty turny passageways, into the Hub. Dex clapped when the real Myfanwy screeched above them.
“Can we feed her?” he asked excitedly, forgetting he was in the presence of Ianto Jones, and when the great man turned to him, Dex nearly wilted. The man let his gaze linger for a minute.
“No,” he said, and his face was dark and drawn.
“Oh,” whispered Dex, very small.
Ianto Jones led him into a conference room, and Dex scrambled onto a chair at the large table. He bounced a little, experimentally, and rested his chin on the table top, gazing at Ianto Jones.
“Yes?” asked Ianto Jones, the epitome of patience.
“You don’t have to watch me,” said Dex. “I’ll be good.”
“I told your father I would,” said the man. He sat across from Dex and unfolded a laptop to begin working. Dex could just see his face above the screen.
“Whatcha doin’?” asked Dex.
Ianto Jones sighed. “Ordering supplies for the Hub.”
“Oh. Why? Can’t you just go and pick them up in a shop?”
“No,” said Ianto Jones, sounding just a little irritated. “Don’t you have homework?”
“No,” said Dex. “It’s not homework. You only do homework at home. I’m not at home, I’m here, so it’s Torchwood-work. Or maybe Hubwork. I like the sound of that better, Hubwork. Is what you’re doing Hubwork too? Or is it Torchwood-work?”
“Both, I suppose,” said Ianto Jones, but Dex barely stopped.
“I like Torchwood. I don’t think Dad likes you very much, but he has to come here because Mummy loves Uncle Captain Jack so much. I do too. Do you love Uncle Captain Jack, Ianto Jones? I think you should. He’s brave and he can hold his breath for hours and hours and hours and hours. I think I want to work for Torchwood when I grow up, except Mummy says I have to go to school first. Dad doesn’t think school is such a good idea because I know everything already, but Mummy says it’s not about knowing, it’s about so-cial-i-za-tion, and being able to interact with other people and be nice about it. Dad says he’s perfectly capable of teaching me so-cial-i-za-tion but Mummy just laughs at him. She laughs at Dad a lot. My Aunt Sarah Jane laughs at him too. Do you think my Dad is funny?”
“I’m not sure,” said Ianto Jones, who couldn’t take his eyes off the little boy across from him.
“If I go to school, I’ll get homework. Except then I have to do it just so, and turn it in, and I don’t have to turn in anything right now. I like that much better. Except Dad looks at my geometry sets sometimes and asks how long it took me to do them, and he puts on his glasses and he frowns and frowns. He says when I’m ready, he’ll let me do calculus. I’ve been doing geometry sets for weeks and weeks. I hope school isn’t all geometry sets. Did you go to school, Ianto Jones?”
“When I was little, I did.”
Dex’s eyes grew five sizes. “You were little?”
“As little as you.”
“You’ve never been little.”
“I was, a very long time ago.”
Dex thought about this. “Like before America and lavatories and Robin Hood?”
Ianto Jones’s mouth quirked, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not to smile. “Not quite as long ago as that.”
“But that was a long time ago.”
“For you, perhaps,” said Ianto Jones, and he glanced at the clock. “Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes? There’s something I must attend to downstairs.”
Dex nodded, and watched Ianto Jones as he left the room. He waited a count of five, and then scrambled off his chair and raced to follow the man. It was easy; Ianto Jones didn’t look behind him, walked very loudly, and Dex had no trouble slipping through the doors as Ianto Jones went deeper into the Hub. Deeper than Dex had ever been, really, and Dex’s hearts pounded with the excitement of it.
After a thousand very long minutes of following Ianto Jones, finally they reached a little round door, and through it, a little dark room, with glass along one side. Ianto Jones stood at one end, fixing something in a bowl, and Dex crept closer, eager to see what was on the other side of the glass.
The creature was dressed in a black sort of pyjamas, almost a uniform. Its head was rounded and bare, and its teeth protruded in a way that reminded Dex of a piranha. It crouched on the ground, its hand drawing lazy circles in the dust, and Dex’s hearts stopped, because something about the creature felt familiar, in a very oddly expanded and too frighteningly large way for him to examine.
“Dex,” said Ianto Jones, and Dex looked up to see the man standing above him, holding the bowl in one hand. Ianto Jones looked extremely cross; it wasn’t hard to determine why. “You were supposed to stay upstairs.”
“Sorry,” whispered Dex, still struggling with the odd feeling.
Ianto Jones placed the bowl on the ground before him, and pressed a button on the wall above Dex’s head. The bowl faded away; after a moment, it appeared in the cell with the creature, who looked at it, and went back to its circles.
“What is it?” asked Dex.
“A Weevil,” said Ianto. “We call her Janet.”
Dex stared. “She’s a girl?”
“Yes.”
And then it clicked - he didn’t know why it would matter that the creature was a girl, but somehow, it did. Dex knew what the odd feeling was - it was the creature, Janet. It was the same sort of thing he’d felt from his Dad on the TARDIS, when his mum had said that woman’s name. Dex looked at Janet’s rounded back, and remembered the way his father had held his mother’s hand, and just as suddenly: he knew.
It wasn’t sad exactly. Dex knew sad. He felt it from Mum, sometimes, when she called his Gran. He felt it from Sarah Jane, sometimes, when she looked at his father.
No, this was bigger than sad. This was something else entirely. This was lonely.
“Why’s she lonely, Ianto Jones?” asked Dex.
“She lost someone she loved,” said Ianto Jones softly.
Dex fell forward on his knees, and crawled a little closer to Janet. It was frightening, the loss he felt from her. It was overwhelming, far and above what he’d felt from his Dad. The only way Dex could describe it was a deep, dark well encompassing everything nearby, the world sloped towards it so that there was no hope of escape. It yawned in front of him, deep and dark and without color. It had rough-round edges, and craggy corners, and the wind that whistled through it sounded like pain and guilt and hopelessness.
“Poor Janet.”
“Dex-"
It happened so quickly, Dex never had a chance to react. Janet stood up on her haunches and roared; Dex’s blood froze in his veins, and a heavy hand clamped on his shoulder to hold him back. Janet sunk down to the floor again, returned to her traced circles, and Dex swallowed his hearts back into place.
“Who did she lose?” asked Dex.
“Her child,” said Ianto Jones, his hand still on Dex’s shoulder, his voice thick.
And this is when Dex realized something else. The deep, encompassing well wasn’t just from Janet - it was someone else, too.
Dex looked up at Ianto Jones, surprised almost to see that the man was staring at Janet, spellbound. “Ianto Jones,” he said, and slowly the man turned his gaze on him. “Who did you lose?”
For a moment, Dex thought Ianto Jones would not answer; his mouth was firm, his hand dropped from Dex’s shoulder. He swallowed a few times, his throat contracting, and Dex waited for several lifetimes.
“Lisa,” said Ianto Jones finally. He sounded like Mum, before she told the very end of the story of the Game Station, of the Bad Wolf saving the Oncoming Storm with a kiss. Or the other way ‘round, depending on if Dad was in the room.
Dex took Ianto Jones’s hand, almost without thinking, which was a very good thing. If he had stopped to consider, he would never have dared.
By the time Dad came to collect him, Dex and Ianto Jones were back in the conference room, sitting on opposite sides of the table, both quietly doing their Hubwork.
“Goodness,” said Dad. “I thought I’d find one of you tied up like a Christmas goose while the other put out the fires.”
“Dad,” groaned Dex. “Ianto Jones wouldn’t tie me up.”
“I never said you were the one I expected tied up,” said Dad dryly.
“We’ve been very well behaved,” said the great and mighty Ianto Jones. Which put Dad in his place very nicely.
*
When Dex was three years and two months, life was certainly not one bit fine. He had a dad who was always worried. He had a mum who was always tired. He lived in a TARDIS that was so busy with a Secret Project behind a Locked Door that he no longer had pterodactyls flying in his bedroom.
He had a book of geometrical problems, but he’d filled it up ages ago and no one had bought him a new one.
“Your mum is sleeping,” said Dad when Dex tried to barge into their bedroom, intent on finding a bookshop from which to purchase a new geometry text.
“So you take me,” demanded Dex.
“Your mum is sleeping,” Dad insisted, as though this argument was logical.
Dad had been logical once. But the more Mum slept, the less logical (and more worried) he became.
Aunt Sarah Jane was sympathetic, which was handy, since the TARDIS had been parked in her back garden for three weeks. She took Dex by the hand and they walked to the bookshop on the High Street for a new set of geometrical problems.
“I don’t see why we all have to be grounded,” complained Dex as he jogged alongside Aunt Sarah Jane, who had a very long stride. She held tightly to his hand, which was nice, because her hand was warm, and Dex’s was not.
“Your dad is the only one who can fly the TARDIS,” said Aunt Sarah Jane. “Well, can is a very strong word, in his case. Attempts might be more accurate.”
“I can fly it.”
“I’m sure you could.”
“I can.”
“Here we are,” said Aunt Sarah Jane, opening the door to the bookshop. “Now, what sort of book would you like?”
Dex thought about the way his father had frowned at the last book of geometry sets. He shoved the memory aside very hard. “Something with lots of calculus.”
Mum would have tried to press books about rabbits on him, but Aunt Sarah Jane led him straight back to the theoretical physics section. Dex loved Aunt Sarah Jane with both his hearts.
It was a completely blissful twenty minutes of inspecting, scanning, deliberating, and sorting. Finally, Dex narrowed the field to two books, which he handed to Aunt Sarah Jane. “Which one?”
Aunt Sarah Jane examined each in turn. “Which do you think will take you the longest?”
Dex slapped his hand on the thicker book. “That one.”
Dad would have glanced through the book, scoffed and called it overly simplistic tripe - assuming, of course, that he wasn’t completely upset with Dex for moving on to calculus ahead of schedule. Aunt Sarah Jane tucked the book under her arm and went to pay for it. Dex’s love for Aunt Sarah Jane washed over him and filled the entire shop with adoration.
“I thought we’d go to the museum,” said Aunt Sarah Jane.
Dex’s eyes shone; he would have followed her anywhere. “Do they have pterodactyls?”
“Oh, scads of them.”
The tube was brilliant. Dex was absolutely positive that the conductor was from Raxacoricofallapatorius, because the voice was just that metallic. The person sitting on the far end of the train had a little device in his ear that allowed him to talk to anyone. And in the passageway between the station and the museum, there was a harpist playing Beethoven.
“I met him,” Dex chirped happily as he skipped next to Aunt Sarah Jane. “Beethoven, I mean. He smelled funny.”
“Did he now?”
The pterodactyl was made of plastic. It was highly disappointing, in comparison. But Aunt Sarah Jane bought him an ice cream, and held his book while he chased the pigeons in the courtyard.
It was while chasing the pigeons that Dex happened to look back to see Aunt Sarah Jane, sitting alone at the table, waiting for him patiently. There was no one else around for miles, she might have been the last human in the world. But she had a little smile on her face, like she didn’t mind not having anyone near. Dex stopped in his tracks as the pigeons all settled on the ground around him, and thought.
When he was done thinking, he walked back to Aunt Sarah Jane, and sat next to her.
“Aunt Sarah Jane,” he said, very gravely, “do you know Uncle Captain Jack?”
Aunt Sarah Jane blinked. “I’ve met him, once or twice.”
“And do you know Aunt Martha?”
“Of course I do, didn’t you see me giving her tea before we went to the bookshop?”
“And you have Luke.”
“Yes, I do.”
“So you won’t be lonely while you’re waiting for me to grow up, will you?”
Aunt Sarah Jane shifted just enough to face him. “Now, Dex Tyler, what brings this on?”
“I just want to make sure,” explained Dex. “Because being lonely is awful.”
“Yes, it is. But that doesn’t explain how such a thought entered your mind.”
“Do you know Janet?”
“The lady at the coffee shop?”
“No, the Weevil in Uncle Captain Jack’s basement.”
Aunt Sarah Jane (oh how Dex loved her) never batted an eye. “I don’t think I know that Janet.”
“She’s lonely. She lost her child, Ianto Jones says. She’s so lonely, I thought it would swallow me up.” Dex shivered, even if he wasn’t cold, and then Aunt Sarah Jane’s arms were around him, holding him close.
“Oh, Dex,” she said softly, resting her cheek on his head, and Dex thought perhaps shivering wasn’t quite so bad. “You shouldn’t have to feel lonely.”
“Ianto Jones felt lonely too, when he looked at her. I think anyone who looks at Janet feels lonely. And I don’t want you to feel lonely, because it’s awful.”
“Do you feel lonely now?”
Dex thought for a moment. “No. Because I have you, and Mummy, and Dad.”
“And a baby sister.”
“But she’s not here yet.” Dex wrinkled his nose, thinking again. “Do you think she’s lonely?”
“Who, your sister?”
“Because she’s not here yet. She doesn’t have us yet.” Dex wriggled out of Aunt Sarah Jane’s arms and looked anxiously up at her. “She’s all by herself, wherever it is she is, until we get her. Do you think she’s lonely?”
Aunt Sarah Jane’s breath caught, and for a brief moment, Dex thought that she might not have the answer. It was a horrible thought, just as frightening as being lonely.
“No, of course not,” said Aunt Sarah Jane finally. “How can she be lonely? She knows she’s going to be with you soon. She’s coming home to you, and she must be very tremendously excited.”
Dex thought about his little sister, somewhere in the middle of somewhere, very very excited, and marching with confidence down an obscure path lined with blue stones, heading towards the TARDIS. He grinned.
“She has us already, doesn’t she, even if she doesn’t know it.”
“Exactly,” said Aunt Sarah Jane, and they threw away the ice cream wrapper, and took the Tube home again, and just as they were leaving the station, Aunt Sarah Jane’s mobile rang.
“Hello - oh, Doctor!”
Dex’s ears perked up, and he skipped alongside Aunt Sarah Jane.
“Oh, yes, we’ve just left the Tube. That’s wonderful. Of course I can - any requests? All right then, we’ll be back in half an hour.”
“That was Dad,” said Dex happily as Aunt Sarah Jane put her mobile away.
“We have to pick up chips for your mum, and curry for the rest of us,” Aunt Sarah Jane told him. These things were accomplished in record time, and Dex was given the all-important task of carrying both his book and the chips, which was difficult since the chips were greasy and he didn’t want to damage his book.
Aunt Martha greeted them in the front garden. “Hello, Dex,” she said. “Run into the TARDIS with the chips, quick. Your mum’s in her room, she wants to show you someone.”
“Someone?” said Dex, and ran.
Mum was pleased and pale though her cheeks were flushed, and when Dex ran helter-skelter into the room, flinging himself on the bed, she sat up and wrapped her arms around him tightly. Dex buried his head in her chest; there seemed to be ample space to cuddle on her lap.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, his voice muffled, and he looked up at her, frowning. “You’re different.”
“You have a sister now,” said Mum, and she looked over to where Dad sat on a rocking chair, holding a bundle of pink blankets in his arms. Dad grinned at Dex, the lines around his eyes crinkling just so. He was in shirtsleeves; Dex almost never saw Dad in shirtsleeves. It was very strange.
“Come meet your sister, Dex,” said Dad, and Dex slid off the bed and walked over to his father.
The baby was very red, and when she yawned, Dex could tell she had no teeth. “She’s little.”
“Yes, she is,” agreed Dad.
“Not from where I’m sitting,” said Mum, laying back down on the bed.
“She’s awfully red.”
“She’ll be better soon.”
“Why didn’t you let me go, too?” asked Dex, crossing his arms and glaring at his father.
Dad blinked. “Go where?”
“To get her!”
“We got her right here, Dex,” said Mum.
“But I wanted to be here when she arrived!” wailed Dex, and the baby woke up and whimpered. “See? She agrees.”
Dad jiggled the baby a little, but it didn’t help; she kept squalling in short bursts, and finally he handed her over to Mum, who sat against the pillows and began to fiddle with her blouse.
“Dex,” said Dad, and he leaned over his knees to look Dex in the eye, “I didn’t think you’d want to be here. You haven’t been very excited about it.”
“I didn’t think about her being alone before she got here,” explained Dex patiently. “I wanted to be here to tell her she’s not alone anymore.”
Dad frowned, and Dex could tell he was confused. “But she wasn’t alone. She was here all the time.”
“How?”
“Dex,” said Mum, in a patient and amused tone Dex recognized all too well, “don’t you remember? She was in my tummy.”
Dex rolled his eyes. “That’s just fairy stories. How could she fit?”
Both his parents went very quiet for a moment. “Dex,” said his father finally. “Didn’t you notice Mum’s tummy was...bigger?”
“No,” said Dex honestly, looking back and forth between them. “Maybe her lap was smaller.”
Mum grinned, and held her arm out to him. Dex climbed up on the bed and rested against her side, watching his sister.
There was a knock on the door; a second later, Aunt Sarah Jane and Aunt Martha appeared bearing plates of curry.
“Dinner is served,” announced Aunt Martha. “Rose, did Dex give you your chips?”
“I’ll eat them in a minute,” said Mum.
“Oh, is that her?” asked Aunt Sarah Jane, and Mum grinned.
“Herself indeed.”
“What’s her name?”
Dad swallowed a bite of curry. “Nina.”
Aunt Sarah Jane sighed. “Oh, good lord. You’re going to name the next one Octavian, aren’t you?”
“It’s an idea!” defended Dad, and Dex looked up at his mother.
“We’re none of us alone, are we?” he clarified, his eyes darting back and forth between his parents.
“Nope,” said Dad. “Wherever we are, we’ve always got each other waiting somewhere for us to arrive.”
“Good,” said Dex.
*
When Dex was three years and three months, he had a mum who loved him, and a dad who played with him. He had a baby sister who was very nearly completely useless, but she grinned whenever she saw him.
He lived in a TARDIS that took him nearly everywhere he wanted to go, and in his room, he had three pterodactyls who flew in lazy circles when it was time to sleep.
He had a whole shelf full of books of calculus problems, courtesy of Uncle Captain Jack, all waiting to be solved.
He had an Aunt Sarah Jane who would marry him when he was older, and he had Ianto Jones who would help him with his homework when he went to school, if Mum had her way.
And sometimes, he thought about Janet, in the very deep dark of Torchwood, and how awful it would be not to have any of those things to come home to, if one was lost and alone and afraid.
Dex had all of those things, and was very glad.
And life was very fine.
Jump to Chapter Twelve of A Blue Gravel Path --- or, if you're reading this series in chronological order, go to Chatper One instead.