Crossroads - A Blue Gravel Path (12/13)
Title: A Blue Gravel Path
Characters: The Doctor, Rose Tyler, among others
Warnings: PG. Oh, and it’s baby!fic.
Spoilers: For the sake of this story, S4 never happens.
Beta: runriggers
Part of the Crossroads series
A now AU and non-S4 compliant story. Ah well.
Part One: Reflections
Part Two: One Day
Part Three: Choices and Chances
Part Four: A Blue Gravel Path - Chapter One ~ Chapter Two ~ Chapter Three ~ Chapter Four ~ Chapter Five ~ Chapter Six ~ Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Eight ~ Chapter Nine ~ Chapter Ten ~ Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve: Just Around the Corner..... There are a thousand blue gravel paths, each with its own journey. They lead a thousand places, each with its own story. The right blue gravel path will bring you home.
A/N: If you have not yet read the one-shot When Dex Was Three, do pop over and give it a spin. It takes place when Nina was born, and should explain why Dex is so convinced that the Doctor is returning.
Chapter Twelve: Just Around the Corner
Rose hadn’t really expected the Doctor to return in five and a half hours. After all, he’d done that once before. For the same reason, she felt confident that she wouldn’t wait five years, either. This left her with waiting for days, weeks, or months. When five and a half days passed, she curled up in the bed she’d shared with him on the TARDIS and sobbed, despondent and unresponsive, her limbs so heavy and her hearts so weak, it was two days before she was able to stand.
Over the next few weeks, life settled into a routine. She visited the crossroads, often alone, sometimes with the children, while Jack and the Torchwood staff worked around her, carefully cleaning up the flotsam and jetsam of Torchwood Tower. Jack claimed that the area was set to be used for some kind of government building, but Rose suspected he merely wanted to remain near, in case she did something stupid like leap into the crossroads after the Doctor.
Sometimes, Rose found herself helping them, trying to catalog the odd things they dug out from under the blocks of concrete and ash. Sometimes she recognized souvenirs from far-off worlds. Sometimes she was stumped. But most of the time, they left her well enough alone.
Every night, she returned to the flat exhausted, both mentally and physically. Every night, Dex patted her hand, and said as he fell asleep, “Maybe tomorrow.”
It was his complete confidence that let her wake up in the morning. She automatically felt for the other body in the cool bed, and every morning, found nothing at all.
On the morning of the third day of the sixth week, Rose woke and did not immediately reach for the Doctor. She showered and dressed and joined the rest of the family in the kitchen, where Sarah Jane was feeding Nina her breakfast, one careful spoonful at a time. Janie shouted in joy to see Rose, and threw her bottle at Rose, as was customary.
Rose caught it, as was not.
“Oh, good eye,” said Sarah Jane admiringly. “I think that’s a first.”
“It is,” said Rose with no small amount of wonder.
“Fancy raspberries for your cereal?”
“Raspberries?” echoed Rose, handing the bottle back to Janie, who immediately popped it in her mouth.
“I picked them up yesterday. They’re lovely and tart. I thought the children would like them with cream.”
“Nina won’t, she hates raspberries,” said Rose automatically, leaning over to give the suspiciously silent Dex a kiss.
“Nonsense, she’s eaten most of her bowl already. Mashed with banana, of course, and she hasn’t made a peep in protest.”
Rose stood up, peering into the bowl Sarah Jane held - sure enough, a faintly gleaming pink goo rested there, nearly gone, and Sarah Jane gave Nina another spoonful of the stuff. The baby dutifully swallowed, and Rose leaned over to took her daughter in the eyes.
“Nina,” said Rose, “since when did you start eating raspberries?”
Sarah Jane dropped the spoon in the bowl. “She’s not allergic, is she?”
Rose shook her head. “No - but she’s always refused them before. She’d spit them out on the Doctor when we tried to feed them to her.”
Sarah Jane made a sort of humming sound, and scraped another spoonful, which Nina ate with gusto. Rose tapped her cheek, thinking.
“Mummy,” interrupted Dex, bouncing his spoon against his bowl. “Can I come with you today?”
Rose didn’t want to be distracted. “Goodness, Dex, I thought today was paddleboats with Luke.”
Dex shrugged, nearly flinging his spoon across the table. “It’s okay. I can do them later.”
“It will be very boring.”
“I don’t think so,” replied Dex, and the spoon flew out of his hand and clattered against the cereal box, which was knocked over, spilling out over the floor. By the time the mess was cleaned up, Rose had forgotten to ask what her son meant.
*
Today seemed like a good day, Rose thought as she followed Dex to the crossroads. He skipped ahead of her, joyful to be outside and free, but Rose went at a more leisurely pace. The sky was overcast, and the weather reports had been full of dire news of rain in the north, but the air was crisp and cool on Rose’s skin, and she felt lighter than she had in weeks. The helicopters hung low in the sky and a gentle breeze lifted Rose’s hair off her neck. She barely noticed the man walking by her in a pinstripe suit; she was only momentarily distracted by the couple on the corner discussing the latest play running at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre.
It was the travel agency on the corner that made her stop, briefly, to look at a poster advertising cheap airfare to Barcelona.
“Mummy!” shouted Dex, nearly a block ahead of her. Rose pulled her eyes away from the poster, and hurried to catch up. “We’ll be late.”
“Late for what?” asked Rose, reaching for his hand.
“Uncle Captain Jack is waiting!” Dex pulled his mother along, and as soon as they neared the worksite, he dropped his mother’s hand to race ahead to where Jack waited for them. Rose watched as Jack caught Dex mid-stride, swinging the boy into the air. By the time Rose caught up with them, Dex hung upside-down by his ankles, and Jack wore the expression of a man who enjoyed tormenting four-year-olds in his spare time.
“I thought I told you, no kids under four in the workplace,” Jack said to Dex, and the little boy screeched.
“I’m four!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
“I hear tell you’re one month shy.”
“That was a month ago!”
“Oh, my mistake.” Jack lowered Dex to the ground, where the boy lay on his back, giggling uncontrollably.
“He insisted,” apologized Rose.
“You caved.”
“Same thing.”
“There’s coffee in the caravan.”
“I’m all right for now. Dex-"
“Stay out of trouble,” sang Dex, an old familiar refrain, and he rolled to his stomach. “Uncle Cap’n Jack, can I break your wrist?”
“No, and stop talking to the guards, they’ll only fill your head with nonsense.”
“They taught me how to do it.”
“I’m sure they did.”
“And how to identify cars fifty meters away, and how to tell when someone’s lying, and I bet I can flip you over on your back too.”
“Dex!” scolded Rose. “You’re not supposed to bother them when they’re working.”
“I’m not bothering them, they said they’re training me. They said I’ll make a good policeman one day.”
Jack shrugged and grinned at Rose. “Well, I suppose it’s better than calling him the Bicycle Repairman, isn’t it?”
Rose laughed, but Dex wasn’t letting up. “Uncle Captain Jack! I can hold my breath longer than you can!”
“I’m sure of it.”
“That’s not how it works - you’re supposed to challenge me!” wailed Dex, and Rose left the two of them to entertain each other as she went to find the crossroads.
“Oi, Rose!” called out Gwen Cooper, her long hair falling into her face. “Help me with this bit of concrete, could you?”
Rose trotted over. “What’s this, then?”
“Part of the old library,” Gwen explained. “Mess of books lying about, maybe you’d recognize some of the languages?”
“I’m not that good at them,” said Rose, but she helped them shove the concrete a few inches over, just enough to reach several dozen books below. One fell at her feet, and Rose leaned over to pick it up, her eyes automatically scanning the words before she could stop them.
It was then that Queen Victoria found herself with the two mysterious strangers. They seemed just as intrigued by the werewolf as they were the charge of keeping the queen safe. Indeed, though they sped the Queen to safety, in the moments between stark terror, they laughed and embraced, continually near each other, until at last the small party consisted of only the Queen herself, the man known as the Doctor, and the small near-naked child.
Rose went still, the book glued to her hand. She could hear the others moving around her, oblivious to her distress. Part of her wanted to burst into laughter. The rest wanted to cry. Instinctively, she looked over to the crossroads, still glowing faintly blue, but otherwise unchanged.
Only….
Rose walked towards it, her knees shaking, clutching the book in her hand. She stared so hard at the crossroads that she forgot to blink, and nearly lost her footing several times before she reached it. She fell to her knees and held her breath, not daring to make a sound.
There - for it had grown louder with every step she’d taken - a hum in the back of her mind, still growing louder though she was no longer moving. Rose could hear it, every moment more certain.
“Dex!” she shouted suddenly, knowing why he’d come with her that day, what he’d meant in the kitchen. “Dex!”
The boy came running, stumbling over the debris but never falling. “Is he coming?” he shouted, and ran into his mother with a thump. He strained forward to the crossroads, and Rose wrapped her arms around him, partially to hold him back, and partially to keep herself from leaping in.
“Do you hear the hum?” she whispered in his ear, and he nodded, so excited he vibrated. “That’s Dad - that’s the part of us he carries with him on the other side.”
“He’s close, isn’t he?” Dex whispered back. “Is he coming?”
Rose couldn’t answer. She squeezed Dex tightly, resting her chin on his shoulder, eyes focused on the box. There were footsteps approaching behind her: Jack. She wondered what the sensometers were picking up right then.
“Mummy,” urged Dex.
“I don’t know what to do,” Rose whispered. “I don’t know how to bring him home.”
“Dad!” shouted Dex, and the crossroads rippled. The humming became stronger. Rose’s eyes went wide. “Dad!” shouted Dex again, and the rippling began anew, as if someone had given it a punch. The humming grew louder still.
Rose tried to speak, but the knot forming in her throat was too tight. “Doctor,” she managed, and though her voice was so soft she could barely hear it, the rippling intensified, kept going, and the humming was near deafening. Hope renewed, Rose pulled every last bit of energy into the single word: “Doctor!”
When the hand appeared at the center of the blue, thin and coated in custard, Rose didn’t even stop to think. She reached forward, past her son, and took it.
And pulled.
The air was filled with shouts and orders, but Rose didn’t hear them. The skies opened as the rain which had threatened all morning began to fall, washing the blue custard that coated them away into the ground, but Rose didn’t feel it. The scent of firecrackers and soot enveloped them, but Rose could smell only the honey-wool scent of him, lying comatose on the ground before her. Jack and Gwen and Ianto Jones circled them, scrambling for blankets and moving aside the larger bits of concrete, but Rose saw only him, lying before her, his mouth slack and his eyes closed, and his hair stuck damply to his face. His hand was still in hers, and his other hand….Rose followed it, almost reluctantly, to see it holding the hand of a nearly-transparent woman, blonde and full-figured, and she nearly lost her breath.
“Mum?”
Jackie Tyler blinked her eyes open, still clutching the Doctor’s other hand. She looked around her, not quite believing where she was, before settling her gaze back on her daughter. “Rose.”
“Mum.” Rose let go of the Doctor’s hand then, and covered her mouth. It hurt to look at her mother, to be able to see straight through her, to where the crossroads still rippled as the rain struck. The rain went through Jackie too, not quite clinging to her, and Rose wondered if she was dreaming. “Is it you?”
Jackie nodded, and Rose did not think about transparency or impossibility. The idea that her mother was anything less than corporeal never crossed her mind - she was there, and Rose fell into her mother’s arms, feeling the familiar warmth of Jackie’s arms wrap around her. She could feel the whisper of Jackie’s hair brush against her cheek, and smell the soap that Jackie always used. The only thing Rose couldn’t feel was a heartbeat beneath her mother’s breasts, but that didn’t matter just then.
“Mickey said you were dead,” whispered Rose, clinging to her mother.
“A little thing like death stop me?” scoffed Jackie. “When the last thing I wanted to do in this world or any other was to hold you? And here you and I sit - oh, let me look at you.”
Rose sat up, scooting closer to her mother, keeping her hands on her mother’s arms. She didn’t dare let go. Jackie’s cheeks glistened, and Rose felt her own cheeks grow damp, but while she was certain to look like a sunburnt and wayward child, her mother looked radiant and glowing, her smile shining like silver. Jackie leaned forward and wiped Rose’s damp cheeks with one hand.
“Two children, and this thin? Doesn’t the Doctor feed you anything?”
“How are you here?”
“Is that any way to greet your mother?”
“Mickey said-"
“Oh, Mickey’s a man, and he’s so besotted over his Doctor Jones right now, he wouldn’t know Tuesday from a tree. I came with the Doctor, didn’t I? I met him on the path, and he brought me to you.”
“What path?”
Jackie smiled. “Don’t you remember? You walked it once, to find me, when you were alone and afraid. We sat near Donald’s pond in the garden and talked.”
“You’re buried there,” said Rose, and Jackie nodded.
“Next to Pete, yes. The twins threw fits when I put him there, but that where I wanted to be, more than anything, in the same spot where I last saw you.”
“Mum - why didn’t you tell me, when Pete died last year?” Rose’s voice nearly broke, and Jackie clucked, pulling her back again.
“What could you have done, Rose? I knew you’d be sorry - I knew you’d want to come back. I couldn’t let you do that.”
“But if you needed me-"
“Rose-" Jackie pushed Rose back up again, and looked her in the eyes. “You couldn’t. I had to die, to come here. Even then, I needed help. I can’t ever go back - and I can’t stay.” She lifted the hand that still clung to the Doctor. “The moment I let go, I’ll slide back onto the path that brought me here. He’s the anchor that holds me.” Jackie laughed. “Yours, too, not so plain.”
Rose took her mother’s other hand. “There’s so much I never told you - that I wanted to tell you - and there’s never time to tell it.”
“Are you my gran?”
Jackie looked away from Rose, perhaps the first time she had done so since her arrival. Dex stood next to his mother, unafraid and curious, and Rose felt a surge of love for her son, who had surely known his father was returning, surely known where he needed to be that day.
“I am,” replied Jackie. “You’re quite big, aren’t you?”
“I’m four.”
Jackie clucked. “Is that all? I thought you were five.”
“Soon,” said Dex, and Rose could tell he was already wondering if he could get away with such a claim. “Why are you here?”
“To see your mother - I couldn’t go without holding her one last time, you see. I love her very much.”
The knot in her throat spread to Rose’s lungs, and she closed her eyes, squeezing her mother’s hand tightly.
“Oh. Did the other lady bring you?”
“Other lady?” echoed Rose, opening her eyes again to see that her son was correct - another woman stood by the TARDIS now, shimmering and transparent like Jackie. She had long, dark hair, pale skin, and her green eyes shone like the brightest green leaves on a new spring day. Rose held her mother’s hand tighter, somehow sensing that the visit was nearly over.
“Jackie,” said the woman, her voice musical and gentle, “it’s nearly time.”
Jackie nodded, and leaned closer to her daughter, slipping her hand out of Rose’s to touch her cheek. “All you have to do is talk to me,” Jackie told her. “That’s all, love. I’ll hear you.”
Rose wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak. “How?” she managed to work past her throat.
“I’m not so far away - just walking a different path. Talk, and I’ll answer.”
Rose nodded, biting her lips and pressing her cheek into her mother’s warm hand. “I’m the strange woman in the marketplace, Mum,” she said. “Walking on some faraway planet.”
Jackie chuckled. “Never to me.”
Jackie’s hand slipped from Rose’s cheek; Rose opened her eyes. Jackie’s hand was free of the Doctor now, and already her body was beginning to - not fade, exactly, but break into a million small pieces, colorful and shining, all of which streamed backwards into the blue crossroads, faster and faster. Jackie leaned forward to give her daughter one last fleeting kiss before she slid away, a thousand atoms becoming part of a different path.
“Mum,” cried out Rose, falling forward on her knees. “Mum - I love you.”
“I’ll love you always, mine,” came the already ghostly reply, and then Jackie was gone.
Rose broke, the knot which had lodged in her throat suddenly becoming loose, and it spilled out of her in the form of choking sobs as she crouched on the ground beside the Doctor. “I never got to say goodbye. I never-"
A cool hand touched her shoulder, and Rose lifted her eyes to see the dark-haired woman kneeling before her. “You never have to. Your mother is still with you.”
“I know you,” interrupted Dex. “You’re - I don’t know who you are. But I know you. Don’t I?”
The woman smiled at the boy. “Not quite, no. But if you think about it, you would likely make a very good guess.”
Dex wrinkled his nose. “You’re - you’re in my head, like Dad. I can feel you in there.” Dex shook his head, knocking his open palm against his temple as if his ear was filled with water. “I can’t get you out, though.”
“Do you not like me being there?”
“Usually it’s only Dad and Nina, and sometimes Mum. I’ve never felt anyone else before. Except Janie. I don’t think Janie would like you being in my head. You’d better get out.”
The woman laughed. “You’re very much like your brother.”
Dex frowned. “My brother? But I don’t have-”
The woman rested a finger on Dex’s lips before he could continue. “You’ll tell your father this, when he wakes? Tell him I said so.”
Dex nodded, eyes somewhat distrustful, and Rose glanced over at the Doctor, still asleep. “When?” she asked, her voice scratchy and shaking. “When will he wake?”
The woman looked quite surprised then. “Why, Rose Tyler - that’s up to you.”
Rose glanced back at the woman. “Me?”
The woman smiled, and stood. Already she was fading fast, her body breaking away before their eyes, and Rose reached for Dex suddenly, pulling him close to her, afraid the same might happen to him.
“Call his name, Rose Tyler,” said the woman. “Wake him with his name.”
Then she was gone.
“Mummy?” whispered Dex, looking up at her, his small hands clutching her blouse.
“His name,” repeated Rose, still in some sort of haze, and Dex pushed away from her, and leaned over his father’s body.
“Dad!” he shouted, but the Doctor didn’t move. Dex knelt and shouted directly into his father’s ear, using the only other thing he’d ever heard his father called. “Doctor!”
“That’s not his name,” said Rose, still in a haze, but watching her son. She leaned over him then, and touched the Doctor’s cheek, cool even to her fingers. He was there - oh, she could feel him, the purple edges of himself pulsing, present and alive. He was asleep, untouchable, racing away every time she drew near.
“What’s his name?” asked Dex, almost in tears now. “Mummy?”
Rose brushed the hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and leaned so close over the Doctor that she was nearly lying beside him. She rested her hand against his chest, feeling his hearts beat in a steady rhythm, and she drew her mouth so closely to his ear, she wasn’t sure that there was any space in between.
It was a whisper of air…it was a brush of breath…it was the rush of the wind in the trees. It was the music in the stars late at night when the cloud drifts over the moon, and the rustle of clothing as it falls to the floor. It was the trickling of a brook over rocks, the laughter of a far-away child, the hum of contentment and the sigh of regret. It slipped from Rose’s lips and into him, an arrow straight into his soul, piercing past the purple barrier and Rose held her breath, waiting.
He opened his eyes.
“Rose,” he said, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard him say.
Jump to the Epilogue
Characters: The Doctor, Rose Tyler, among others
Warnings: PG. Oh, and it’s baby!fic.
Spoilers: For the sake of this story, S4 never happens.
Beta: runriggers
Part of the Crossroads series
A now AU and non-S4 compliant story. Ah well.
Part One: Reflections
Part Two: One Day
Part Three: Choices and Chances
Part Four: A Blue Gravel Path - Chapter One ~ Chapter Two ~ Chapter Three ~ Chapter Four ~ Chapter Five ~ Chapter Six ~ Chapter Seven ~ Chapter Eight ~ Chapter Nine ~ Chapter Ten ~ Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve: Just Around the Corner..... There are a thousand blue gravel paths, each with its own journey. They lead a thousand places, each with its own story. The right blue gravel path will bring you home.
A/N: If you have not yet read the one-shot When Dex Was Three, do pop over and give it a spin. It takes place when Nina was born, and should explain why Dex is so convinced that the Doctor is returning.
Chapter Twelve: Just Around the Corner
Rose hadn’t really expected the Doctor to return in five and a half hours. After all, he’d done that once before. For the same reason, she felt confident that she wouldn’t wait five years, either. This left her with waiting for days, weeks, or months. When five and a half days passed, she curled up in the bed she’d shared with him on the TARDIS and sobbed, despondent and unresponsive, her limbs so heavy and her hearts so weak, it was two days before she was able to stand.
Over the next few weeks, life settled into a routine. She visited the crossroads, often alone, sometimes with the children, while Jack and the Torchwood staff worked around her, carefully cleaning up the flotsam and jetsam of Torchwood Tower. Jack claimed that the area was set to be used for some kind of government building, but Rose suspected he merely wanted to remain near, in case she did something stupid like leap into the crossroads after the Doctor.
Sometimes, Rose found herself helping them, trying to catalog the odd things they dug out from under the blocks of concrete and ash. Sometimes she recognized souvenirs from far-off worlds. Sometimes she was stumped. But most of the time, they left her well enough alone.
Every night, she returned to the flat exhausted, both mentally and physically. Every night, Dex patted her hand, and said as he fell asleep, “Maybe tomorrow.”
It was his complete confidence that let her wake up in the morning. She automatically felt for the other body in the cool bed, and every morning, found nothing at all.
On the morning of the third day of the sixth week, Rose woke and did not immediately reach for the Doctor. She showered and dressed and joined the rest of the family in the kitchen, where Sarah Jane was feeding Nina her breakfast, one careful spoonful at a time. Janie shouted in joy to see Rose, and threw her bottle at Rose, as was customary.
Rose caught it, as was not.
“Oh, good eye,” said Sarah Jane admiringly. “I think that’s a first.”
“It is,” said Rose with no small amount of wonder.
“Fancy raspberries for your cereal?”
“Raspberries?” echoed Rose, handing the bottle back to Janie, who immediately popped it in her mouth.
“I picked them up yesterday. They’re lovely and tart. I thought the children would like them with cream.”
“Nina won’t, she hates raspberries,” said Rose automatically, leaning over to give the suspiciously silent Dex a kiss.
“Nonsense, she’s eaten most of her bowl already. Mashed with banana, of course, and she hasn’t made a peep in protest.”
Rose stood up, peering into the bowl Sarah Jane held - sure enough, a faintly gleaming pink goo rested there, nearly gone, and Sarah Jane gave Nina another spoonful of the stuff. The baby dutifully swallowed, and Rose leaned over to took her daughter in the eyes.
“Nina,” said Rose, “since when did you start eating raspberries?”
Sarah Jane dropped the spoon in the bowl. “She’s not allergic, is she?”
Rose shook her head. “No - but she’s always refused them before. She’d spit them out on the Doctor when we tried to feed them to her.”
Sarah Jane made a sort of humming sound, and scraped another spoonful, which Nina ate with gusto. Rose tapped her cheek, thinking.
“Mummy,” interrupted Dex, bouncing his spoon against his bowl. “Can I come with you today?”
Rose didn’t want to be distracted. “Goodness, Dex, I thought today was paddleboats with Luke.”
Dex shrugged, nearly flinging his spoon across the table. “It’s okay. I can do them later.”
“It will be very boring.”
“I don’t think so,” replied Dex, and the spoon flew out of his hand and clattered against the cereal box, which was knocked over, spilling out over the floor. By the time the mess was cleaned up, Rose had forgotten to ask what her son meant.
*
Today seemed like a good day, Rose thought as she followed Dex to the crossroads. He skipped ahead of her, joyful to be outside and free, but Rose went at a more leisurely pace. The sky was overcast, and the weather reports had been full of dire news of rain in the north, but the air was crisp and cool on Rose’s skin, and she felt lighter than she had in weeks. The helicopters hung low in the sky and a gentle breeze lifted Rose’s hair off her neck. She barely noticed the man walking by her in a pinstripe suit; she was only momentarily distracted by the couple on the corner discussing the latest play running at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre.
It was the travel agency on the corner that made her stop, briefly, to look at a poster advertising cheap airfare to Barcelona.
“Mummy!” shouted Dex, nearly a block ahead of her. Rose pulled her eyes away from the poster, and hurried to catch up. “We’ll be late.”
“Late for what?” asked Rose, reaching for his hand.
“Uncle Captain Jack is waiting!” Dex pulled his mother along, and as soon as they neared the worksite, he dropped his mother’s hand to race ahead to where Jack waited for them. Rose watched as Jack caught Dex mid-stride, swinging the boy into the air. By the time Rose caught up with them, Dex hung upside-down by his ankles, and Jack wore the expression of a man who enjoyed tormenting four-year-olds in his spare time.
“I thought I told you, no kids under four in the workplace,” Jack said to Dex, and the little boy screeched.
“I’m four!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
“I hear tell you’re one month shy.”
“That was a month ago!”
“Oh, my mistake.” Jack lowered Dex to the ground, where the boy lay on his back, giggling uncontrollably.
“He insisted,” apologized Rose.
“You caved.”
“Same thing.”
“There’s coffee in the caravan.”
“I’m all right for now. Dex-"
“Stay out of trouble,” sang Dex, an old familiar refrain, and he rolled to his stomach. “Uncle Cap’n Jack, can I break your wrist?”
“No, and stop talking to the guards, they’ll only fill your head with nonsense.”
“They taught me how to do it.”
“I’m sure they did.”
“And how to identify cars fifty meters away, and how to tell when someone’s lying, and I bet I can flip you over on your back too.”
“Dex!” scolded Rose. “You’re not supposed to bother them when they’re working.”
“I’m not bothering them, they said they’re training me. They said I’ll make a good policeman one day.”
Jack shrugged and grinned at Rose. “Well, I suppose it’s better than calling him the Bicycle Repairman, isn’t it?”
Rose laughed, but Dex wasn’t letting up. “Uncle Captain Jack! I can hold my breath longer than you can!”
“I’m sure of it.”
“That’s not how it works - you’re supposed to challenge me!” wailed Dex, and Rose left the two of them to entertain each other as she went to find the crossroads.
“Oi, Rose!” called out Gwen Cooper, her long hair falling into her face. “Help me with this bit of concrete, could you?”
Rose trotted over. “What’s this, then?”
“Part of the old library,” Gwen explained. “Mess of books lying about, maybe you’d recognize some of the languages?”
“I’m not that good at them,” said Rose, but she helped them shove the concrete a few inches over, just enough to reach several dozen books below. One fell at her feet, and Rose leaned over to pick it up, her eyes automatically scanning the words before she could stop them.
It was then that Queen Victoria found herself with the two mysterious strangers. They seemed just as intrigued by the werewolf as they were the charge of keeping the queen safe. Indeed, though they sped the Queen to safety, in the moments between stark terror, they laughed and embraced, continually near each other, until at last the small party consisted of only the Queen herself, the man known as the Doctor, and the small near-naked child.
Rose went still, the book glued to her hand. She could hear the others moving around her, oblivious to her distress. Part of her wanted to burst into laughter. The rest wanted to cry. Instinctively, she looked over to the crossroads, still glowing faintly blue, but otherwise unchanged.
Only….
Rose walked towards it, her knees shaking, clutching the book in her hand. She stared so hard at the crossroads that she forgot to blink, and nearly lost her footing several times before she reached it. She fell to her knees and held her breath, not daring to make a sound.
There - for it had grown louder with every step she’d taken - a hum in the back of her mind, still growing louder though she was no longer moving. Rose could hear it, every moment more certain.
“Dex!” she shouted suddenly, knowing why he’d come with her that day, what he’d meant in the kitchen. “Dex!”
The boy came running, stumbling over the debris but never falling. “Is he coming?” he shouted, and ran into his mother with a thump. He strained forward to the crossroads, and Rose wrapped her arms around him, partially to hold him back, and partially to keep herself from leaping in.
“Do you hear the hum?” she whispered in his ear, and he nodded, so excited he vibrated. “That’s Dad - that’s the part of us he carries with him on the other side.”
“He’s close, isn’t he?” Dex whispered back. “Is he coming?”
Rose couldn’t answer. She squeezed Dex tightly, resting her chin on his shoulder, eyes focused on the box. There were footsteps approaching behind her: Jack. She wondered what the sensometers were picking up right then.
“Mummy,” urged Dex.
“I don’t know what to do,” Rose whispered. “I don’t know how to bring him home.”
“Dad!” shouted Dex, and the crossroads rippled. The humming became stronger. Rose’s eyes went wide. “Dad!” shouted Dex again, and the rippling began anew, as if someone had given it a punch. The humming grew louder still.
Rose tried to speak, but the knot forming in her throat was too tight. “Doctor,” she managed, and though her voice was so soft she could barely hear it, the rippling intensified, kept going, and the humming was near deafening. Hope renewed, Rose pulled every last bit of energy into the single word: “Doctor!”
When the hand appeared at the center of the blue, thin and coated in custard, Rose didn’t even stop to think. She reached forward, past her son, and took it.
And pulled.
The air was filled with shouts and orders, but Rose didn’t hear them. The skies opened as the rain which had threatened all morning began to fall, washing the blue custard that coated them away into the ground, but Rose didn’t feel it. The scent of firecrackers and soot enveloped them, but Rose could smell only the honey-wool scent of him, lying comatose on the ground before her. Jack and Gwen and Ianto Jones circled them, scrambling for blankets and moving aside the larger bits of concrete, but Rose saw only him, lying before her, his mouth slack and his eyes closed, and his hair stuck damply to his face. His hand was still in hers, and his other hand….Rose followed it, almost reluctantly, to see it holding the hand of a nearly-transparent woman, blonde and full-figured, and she nearly lost her breath.
“Mum?”
Jackie Tyler blinked her eyes open, still clutching the Doctor’s other hand. She looked around her, not quite believing where she was, before settling her gaze back on her daughter. “Rose.”
“Mum.” Rose let go of the Doctor’s hand then, and covered her mouth. It hurt to look at her mother, to be able to see straight through her, to where the crossroads still rippled as the rain struck. The rain went through Jackie too, not quite clinging to her, and Rose wondered if she was dreaming. “Is it you?”
Jackie nodded, and Rose did not think about transparency or impossibility. The idea that her mother was anything less than corporeal never crossed her mind - she was there, and Rose fell into her mother’s arms, feeling the familiar warmth of Jackie’s arms wrap around her. She could feel the whisper of Jackie’s hair brush against her cheek, and smell the soap that Jackie always used. The only thing Rose couldn’t feel was a heartbeat beneath her mother’s breasts, but that didn’t matter just then.
“Mickey said you were dead,” whispered Rose, clinging to her mother.
“A little thing like death stop me?” scoffed Jackie. “When the last thing I wanted to do in this world or any other was to hold you? And here you and I sit - oh, let me look at you.”
Rose sat up, scooting closer to her mother, keeping her hands on her mother’s arms. She didn’t dare let go. Jackie’s cheeks glistened, and Rose felt her own cheeks grow damp, but while she was certain to look like a sunburnt and wayward child, her mother looked radiant and glowing, her smile shining like silver. Jackie leaned forward and wiped Rose’s damp cheeks with one hand.
“Two children, and this thin? Doesn’t the Doctor feed you anything?”
“How are you here?”
“Is that any way to greet your mother?”
“Mickey said-"
“Oh, Mickey’s a man, and he’s so besotted over his Doctor Jones right now, he wouldn’t know Tuesday from a tree. I came with the Doctor, didn’t I? I met him on the path, and he brought me to you.”
“What path?”
Jackie smiled. “Don’t you remember? You walked it once, to find me, when you were alone and afraid. We sat near Donald’s pond in the garden and talked.”
“You’re buried there,” said Rose, and Jackie nodded.
“Next to Pete, yes. The twins threw fits when I put him there, but that where I wanted to be, more than anything, in the same spot where I last saw you.”
“Mum - why didn’t you tell me, when Pete died last year?” Rose’s voice nearly broke, and Jackie clucked, pulling her back again.
“What could you have done, Rose? I knew you’d be sorry - I knew you’d want to come back. I couldn’t let you do that.”
“But if you needed me-"
“Rose-" Jackie pushed Rose back up again, and looked her in the eyes. “You couldn’t. I had to die, to come here. Even then, I needed help. I can’t ever go back - and I can’t stay.” She lifted the hand that still clung to the Doctor. “The moment I let go, I’ll slide back onto the path that brought me here. He’s the anchor that holds me.” Jackie laughed. “Yours, too, not so plain.”
Rose took her mother’s other hand. “There’s so much I never told you - that I wanted to tell you - and there’s never time to tell it.”
“Are you my gran?”
Jackie looked away from Rose, perhaps the first time she had done so since her arrival. Dex stood next to his mother, unafraid and curious, and Rose felt a surge of love for her son, who had surely known his father was returning, surely known where he needed to be that day.
“I am,” replied Jackie. “You’re quite big, aren’t you?”
“I’m four.”
Jackie clucked. “Is that all? I thought you were five.”
“Soon,” said Dex, and Rose could tell he was already wondering if he could get away with such a claim. “Why are you here?”
“To see your mother - I couldn’t go without holding her one last time, you see. I love her very much.”
The knot in her throat spread to Rose’s lungs, and she closed her eyes, squeezing her mother’s hand tightly.
“Oh. Did the other lady bring you?”
“Other lady?” echoed Rose, opening her eyes again to see that her son was correct - another woman stood by the TARDIS now, shimmering and transparent like Jackie. She had long, dark hair, pale skin, and her green eyes shone like the brightest green leaves on a new spring day. Rose held her mother’s hand tighter, somehow sensing that the visit was nearly over.
“Jackie,” said the woman, her voice musical and gentle, “it’s nearly time.”
Jackie nodded, and leaned closer to her daughter, slipping her hand out of Rose’s to touch her cheek. “All you have to do is talk to me,” Jackie told her. “That’s all, love. I’ll hear you.”
Rose wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak. “How?” she managed to work past her throat.
“I’m not so far away - just walking a different path. Talk, and I’ll answer.”
Rose nodded, biting her lips and pressing her cheek into her mother’s warm hand. “I’m the strange woman in the marketplace, Mum,” she said. “Walking on some faraway planet.”
Jackie chuckled. “Never to me.”
Jackie’s hand slipped from Rose’s cheek; Rose opened her eyes. Jackie’s hand was free of the Doctor now, and already her body was beginning to - not fade, exactly, but break into a million small pieces, colorful and shining, all of which streamed backwards into the blue crossroads, faster and faster. Jackie leaned forward to give her daughter one last fleeting kiss before she slid away, a thousand atoms becoming part of a different path.
“Mum,” cried out Rose, falling forward on her knees. “Mum - I love you.”
“I’ll love you always, mine,” came the already ghostly reply, and then Jackie was gone.
Rose broke, the knot which had lodged in her throat suddenly becoming loose, and it spilled out of her in the form of choking sobs as she crouched on the ground beside the Doctor. “I never got to say goodbye. I never-"
A cool hand touched her shoulder, and Rose lifted her eyes to see the dark-haired woman kneeling before her. “You never have to. Your mother is still with you.”
“I know you,” interrupted Dex. “You’re - I don’t know who you are. But I know you. Don’t I?”
The woman smiled at the boy. “Not quite, no. But if you think about it, you would likely make a very good guess.”
Dex wrinkled his nose. “You’re - you’re in my head, like Dad. I can feel you in there.” Dex shook his head, knocking his open palm against his temple as if his ear was filled with water. “I can’t get you out, though.”
“Do you not like me being there?”
“Usually it’s only Dad and Nina, and sometimes Mum. I’ve never felt anyone else before. Except Janie. I don’t think Janie would like you being in my head. You’d better get out.”
The woman laughed. “You’re very much like your brother.”
Dex frowned. “My brother? But I don’t have-”
The woman rested a finger on Dex’s lips before he could continue. “You’ll tell your father this, when he wakes? Tell him I said so.”
Dex nodded, eyes somewhat distrustful, and Rose glanced over at the Doctor, still asleep. “When?” she asked, her voice scratchy and shaking. “When will he wake?”
The woman looked quite surprised then. “Why, Rose Tyler - that’s up to you.”
Rose glanced back at the woman. “Me?”
The woman smiled, and stood. Already she was fading fast, her body breaking away before their eyes, and Rose reached for Dex suddenly, pulling him close to her, afraid the same might happen to him.
“Call his name, Rose Tyler,” said the woman. “Wake him with his name.”
Then she was gone.
“Mummy?” whispered Dex, looking up at her, his small hands clutching her blouse.
“His name,” repeated Rose, still in some sort of haze, and Dex pushed away from her, and leaned over his father’s body.
“Dad!” he shouted, but the Doctor didn’t move. Dex knelt and shouted directly into his father’s ear, using the only other thing he’d ever heard his father called. “Doctor!”
“That’s not his name,” said Rose, still in a haze, but watching her son. She leaned over him then, and touched the Doctor’s cheek, cool even to her fingers. He was there - oh, she could feel him, the purple edges of himself pulsing, present and alive. He was asleep, untouchable, racing away every time she drew near.
“What’s his name?” asked Dex, almost in tears now. “Mummy?”
Rose brushed the hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and leaned so close over the Doctor that she was nearly lying beside him. She rested her hand against his chest, feeling his hearts beat in a steady rhythm, and she drew her mouth so closely to his ear, she wasn’t sure that there was any space in between.
It was a whisper of air…it was a brush of breath…it was the rush of the wind in the trees. It was the music in the stars late at night when the cloud drifts over the moon, and the rustle of clothing as it falls to the floor. It was the trickling of a brook over rocks, the laughter of a far-away child, the hum of contentment and the sigh of regret. It slipped from Rose’s lips and into him, an arrow straight into his soul, piercing past the purple barrier and Rose held her breath, waiting.
He opened his eyes.
“Rose,” he said, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard him say.
Jump to the Epilogue